If your pain is so real
then what is mine?
Your demons are tangible
Your demons are the ones that
push the weaker kids into lockers
Your demons are the ones that
open your heart
only to raid it and leave it bleeding
My demons - my demons do not exist
in the face of yours
Mine are silent
(Except in my head)
My demons scream at me
They tell me about being too fat (or too skinny)
or too stupid (or too pretentious)
or being too much of a disappointment
Your demons prove that you are worth fighting over
Mine prove that there is nothing to fight for
If your pain is so real
then what is mine?

If your cuts are too shallow
then what are mine?
At least yours will fade in time
Mine are digusting
lingering
They remind me constantly of how I have failed
of how I will inevitably continue failing
My skin doesn't sting
(If I squeeze my eyelids hard enough)
You need yours to hurt more
To remind yourself what pain feels like
instead of numbness
I'm so much less romantic.
I need to remind myself what punishment feels like
I deserve to be punished
You do not deserve to be punished
You do not deserve your scars to be permanent
but I do
If your cuts are too shallow
then what are mine?

If you are human
then what am I?
Because if your mistakes are what count
then I have made enough to spare
And if it's your torment that decides it
send me a membership letter
At least tell me I'm something
Because what I have seen is not part of a competition
What I think
should not be compared with what you do
My impact
should not be compared with yours
Making a struggle into a prize
That makes me inhuman
So if it's pain that makes you real
then at least act like I have a ******* heart
And don't tell me that
I don't know what it's like.
If you are human
then what am I?