“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
Oh darling…
After years of being bullied,
Bullying myself,
Are you aware the state I’m in?
My hands, they shake.
My head, it spins.
To be trapped in your own mind,
To be hooked on a drug they call sadness,
It’s torture.
I am a POW.
A prisoner of the war I am at with myself
When my mind says “Move on”,
And my heart says “Hold on”,
And my body says “I’m not sure how much more of this I can take”,
Who to listen to?
So I am punished for everything broken in my life
As I grasp through the darkness,
Trying to glue it all back together,
Ignoring the cuts the sharp shattered dreams bring,
But I’m so tired of self-pity.
So tired of holding onto people and things that have long left my life
Hoping one day
These real eyes
Will realize
When those real lies are told
So I can stop and ask myself is it really worth it.
Or better yet, am I really worth it?
Or am I just a complication?
Someone who you would be better off without,
At least you won’t have to act like you love me.
Lie about being there for me,
Dangle in front of me the possibility of happiness,
Then pretend to help me pick up the pieces of my broken heart
I’m so tired.
Stupid us, thinking we were in love.
Stupid me, thinking I was finally good enough.
So when I hear that stupid rhyme,
It brings me back.
Re-read the top if you must to completely grasp,
But don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone.