You know what's sad?
The fact that I spend my free time
Thinking of ways to hide
My sadness.

The fact that I have to think
Of an excuse for
Why my arm hurts
And bleeds.  

It's hard to hide the scars
Of my past
And my present
And my future.  

Knowing that a teacher could
Find my writing
And try to censor me
Again.

I'm sick of being told
That I can't say
What I feel because
It makes others uncomfortable.

I'm tired of being told
That I have to live
Because if I die
It will makes others uncomfortable
To remember me.

Sorry?
It's not really your decision
To decide if I live or die
It's mine
And I choose-