There is hate in me,
behind my happy, innocent, calmness,
beneath the surface of my optimism
lies a demon of anger, depression, and fear.

But I can't let the hate go onto others,
they don't deserve to feel the pain of the cruel words I think,
the sadness that tides me make me cry oceans before I sleep,
So it gets released onto me.

Each scar on my wrist represents a fight,
a battle with this internal monster.
Each line means another win, for I have not given up,
not yet.

I will keep fighting.
Fighting so that my friends never need to feel this pain,
so that they never need to  worry,
so that I can keep smiling for them.

I will always fight,
and I won't lose to the hate in me.