I am walking down the road in the footsteps of my former self
Retracing yesterday
feeling the stabbing pains
Tears pricking my eyes
cheeks burning red
Cold sweat on hot skin
My bones worry with the weight of the world planted squarely upon my shoulders
Wearing the words of spite that sting my flesh
I cover my ears so that the silence deafens me
I have been walking away forever
feet bleeding their taunts
My hands held out palms up
Ready to receive their leftovers
There I was standing out ... and not fitting in
Did I scare all of you with my quiet acceptance ?
I was your muse
your amusement to get you out of the predicament
That meant I was the punch bag for your discontent.