When I was five my mom taught me how to count to ten. I liked the number ten I thought that I could rule the world cause I knew how to count to ten. I could play hide and seek now I could make a hopscotch I could be like my older sister The number ten made me so happy. When I was six I went to kindergarten Counting to ten was baby stuff But I still liked ten My kindergarten teacher taught me that counting to ten ten times makes one hundred. I cried to my mom when I got home It seemed too complicated So I kept counting to ten Life was easier when only numbers one through ten existed. When I was twelve there was a group of mean girls Ten of them I didn't like the number ten that much anymore. Cause according to them it was How much weight I needed to lose (10lbs) How many of my friends hate me (10) How high I would score on a test (10%) I could always hear them coming all their ten steps in sync Walking in a V They were a flock of birds Getting ready to attack a poor penguin who couldn't fly like them. When I was sixteen all of the mean girls went to a different school. I didn't have to be with the ten anymore. I had to be with myself I lost 10 lbs Plus extra I have no friends now, turns out the ten friends I had really didn't like me. When I was sixteen boys would line up one through ten One and two would make me cry I told three and four that they were a waste of time, they would just hurt me I gave five a chance He broke me The other five didn't get to know me Even though they tried They could never really know me The me who liked only the numbers one through ten. The me who cries at night remembering the monsters The me who hates myself I fake it so well I put up a wall Ten bricks up Ten bricks across My second grade teacher would have asked me how many bricks I used But it doesn't really matter anymore Cause behind that wall I'm self destructing I wish I only had to count 1-10
This is sloppy but it was shoved in my head had to get it out.