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Nigdaw Aug 15
we hid here
among the words we write
expressing ourselves
anonymously
using synonyms
similes adjectives
verbs nouns
to voice our fragility
our vulnerability
and self-doubt
implanted by years
of subjugation
intimidation
manipulation
bullied
into self-loathing
self-harm
even suicidal thoughts
well here we are
come find us
I challenge you to a duel
your intellect
against mine
Messy hair and stained white shirts.
The laughing stock of this tiny stage.
Stare at your feet,
Velcro sketchers covered in sand.
Drown out the laughs with your own internal screams.
Now you wish for that undervalued state of oblivion.
To be bullied is to be numb. Having something that makes you happy to have it taken away from you. To live in Pennsylvania, to have my first boyfriend. Everything was great. It was perfect. Until one day I felt the burning in the back of my head as eyes stared at me. Rumors had spread that I was bisexual. They were true, but no one knew that. To be bullied nonstop. Remembering the excruciating pain in my back as I was slammed into lockers. Eventually having to leave before anything extreme happened. That was the toughest thing I ever did. Having to leave everything behind, my friends and family.
Real life experiences
Hiding behind a mask. A shadow to others, unnoticed by all. Some say that beauty lies beneath. Not in today's world. Judgmental eyes follow you like heat-seeking missiles. Their glare can burn you from the inside. As what seems like a million beady eyes staring, you are bound to make a mistake. As you wander aimlessly, hoping for this day to end, the world seems to turn slower, and slower. You feel as if time is against you, that it finds joy in your sorrow. One slip and you are called clumsy. One tear and you are called a crybaby. One wrong answer and you are called stupid. One word and you can be forever laughed at. So if you hold your tongue, remain quiet, never show emotion, and hide in the shadows, you can protect yourself.
This is how I first viewed middle school. All the 7th and 8th graders would make you feel like an ant amongst giants. They thought they knew everything.
Norman Crane Sep 2020
Mud bath
Doc Martens
                        Back of head
Off the beaten path
                        Still beaten
But at least not dead
*******, they said
Don't understand what I did
But was
Drowning in the ground
One day they'll come around
To me

Doc Martens
                        Back of head
Off the beaten path
                        Still,
                        Beate­n
Dead.
Inspired by several news stories about bullying. What struck me was the tragedy of the bullied person coming back, again and again, to the bullies, probably craving attention, perhaps hoping for eventual acceptance, and how that same need (to return, to be accepted) not only intensified the bullying but justified that intensity ("What did he expect? He kept coming back for more!") In the extreme case, the intensification resulted in death. The death itself was seemingly blamed in part on the victim ("Well, he didn't object to us doing X, so naturally we tried X+1. I guess it's sad that X+1 killed him, but all he had to do was [...] and he didn't, so, you know: he didn't save himself.") One of the acts of bullying that struck me was walking on the victim's body, especially across puddles, gravel and mud. I was also surprised by how poorly the bullies were able to explain why they chose their particular victims. Their explanations amounted to: (1) he existed, (2) he existed around us, (3) he kept existing around us despite what we were doing, and (4) he was weird.
Vampirecadence Jul 2020
Nothing as mind described was sin,
suppressing was actual sin.
It kept coming in,
some days unwilled,
some days willed,
it gone leaving perplexed and guilt.
Flocked and bounced until it got exhaust,
left inside everything holocaust.
Innocent, unaware, bruised himself
in threads of twisted thoughts.
Unshared, whispered in thin air, shredded in half.
Coagulated and stranded thoughts,
bruised and bullied, ravenous remarked, fetched the tears in glass.
Distraught and regret pervaded, filled the state of mind with depressed art.
admonished till blood turned cold, still nothing could abolished the suppressed doubts, it still came out, healthy and curious, to demolish everything owned.  nothing as mind described was sin, suppressing was actual sin.
Written on 20th July 2020
I get asked every day

Like why "I am so crazy?

**** I've been like this since day one

Life feels like an empty High-way

If you got ADHD like I do

You won't feel so lazy

each one of us

has a different story

you wish you can be just you

stay focus while driving your car

don't need to worry about taking the bus

anymore, overthinking again

hoping you wouldn't get bullied

teens like me, are afraid to get a little bit too high

Cause, the drugs will mix with our medication.

Our ADHD got us all Tripping

I pray to god hoping that one day i will stop doubting

All the feeling i hide within my mask

I can't even smile cause all  feeling

has us all overwhelming

we all have the same question we got to ask

no one knows how we are dealing

we just hold it all in and smile

and pretend like we all love our life.

Remember you are perfect just the way you are

Don't let your ADHD stop you from reaching your goals

you can wish upon a shooting star

get back up on your feet, and fill these empty holes.

Remind yourself everyday

you are a gifted child with ADHD

that is one of the many reasons why

you are so unique
Poetic T May 2020
Reality was my nightmare,
               dreams were my solace.

I was real within them.
Izabella Motch Apr 2020
Mama
Hugs me
Whispering soft letters
That sing together
And let off a gentle glow
They warm me up
And heal my scars

She builds me a sailboat
And I float
Float
Float
Up into cotton candy clouds

She is my sail
She makes smiles creep onto my face
Floating along
My world of haziness
My boat dancing
In the soft breeze
Which caresses my skin
Her whispers singing
Against it

Then I hear splashing
The waves are now rolling
Higher then I can handle
Their insults weaving their way
In and out

Pebbles are tossed at me
Until they are boulders
And my sail is sinking
And my boat is sinking
And I too, am sinking
Down
Down
Down

And now
I drown
In my sea of tears
The waves
Still thrashing me around
And I sift about
Like sand
Letting them
Drag me

I go
In and out
Of school and insults
In and out
Of my home, and warmth
Their words go
In and out
As they settle in my skin
And bleed out of my eyes
Leaving marking on my face
Until I hold onto
Every word they say.
Til I too am a wave
Washing my brain
Filling it with pain
Sifting around in the abyss of my head
I've sunk
This poem is about my own experiences with bullying and how you tend to take what bullies say stronger then what your parents say and I thought I would share it
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