I want to run, but here I stand.
I began to fall, but on my feet I land.
I stand my ground.
Look around.
Here they scream out loud.
The names they shout out.
***, loner, weak.
Friendless, ****, meek.
Dead, ****.
Never to be liked.
Should I listen
Possibly dismiss them.
The words may burn.
At night I may toss and turn.
Sleepless  
Empty and dreamless.
I never want to be called a victim.
Maybe just a symptom.
One of being me.
So judgemental they have to be.
Why do they have to hurt me til I die?
Why do they spit their words til I cry.
I don't have to care.
I can pretend they aren't there.
That's what my mom says to do.
I told her I am me not you.
It's not the easiest thing.
Hearing other human beings.
Beating you down.
When everyone's around.
Watching your best friend.
Say our love was all pretend.
Well it's alright.
I'm okay for atleast another long hate filled day.