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Pax Nov 2024
I am never
the comedian,
But I am
the joke.
When I was growing-up, I was different, in a way i speak, walk or talk. Yet physically i was just a normal boy growing up knowing nothing on how the society works. I was confident to what i like and don't like, then been bullied  or humilated by doing it, because it was not the norms for a typical boy. Then I became fed up with it, that in my teenages years i learned to be alone and be alone, trying to fix something that didn't need fixing. Life goes on in my teenage year, still being bullied until in my collage years that i learned which to ignore and to which to defend. In result to all this i became a loner, choosing wisely when to socialize when needed to or else i rather be alone. That is why also i never care finding someone anymore, i find comfort in my own space.  Being Old alone is not such a bad thing anymore, we all go there in some point in time.

To conclude my personal journey, I guess being bullied physically or emotionally has/have a long time effect. It will scar you, but it will never defined you, you'll get strong as you understand the viewpoint in perspective, life gets better when you know how to live a good life.
Cloudisse Oct 2024
I earned this status in a very vulnerable and upsetting moment in my life.

Of course, it was exploited and took advantage of. Me.

I served as an inside joke, a clown for others to get a kick out of, free use and laughter for others.

All whilst patronising me! I was oblivious. This, accompanied by other hardships, continued for a ruthless and renting four years, until it ceased.

The joke had gotten old, and they let me be.

More or less, this goes to show what true reality is like. Vulnerability is what monsters prey after! Like a shark huffing the scent of blood underwater, they prowl.
x Oct 2024
why
why did you do it?
we were kids,
children.
we were friends.
i trusted you.

how could you see me,
know me,
a 12-year-old girl,
like you,
and do that.

you've probably forgotten.
but if it came up, you'd probably laugh.
a silly little thing you did way back when.
it's been nearly a decade,
but it still haunts me.

it's woven in the fibres of my being,
i can't remove it.
it's scars mark every interaction,
every relationship.
i can't trust anymore.

not since what you did.
that little mistake,
that small lapse in judgment,
that momentary blip,
is my trauma.

and how is it fair that you get to forget,
you get to move on,
when i'm stuck feeling like that 12-year-old girl,
even 10 years later.
why did you do it?
about an incident of bullying
Brian A Sargent Oct 2024
What's the difference?

If any then there's plenty

Of many tears shared

Wear none of the brand labor

All my **** was hand me down

Thundercats drawers brawling in the halls

Four in the afternoon call for a ride home

Having poured from my cup a better potion

Love is a mixture of pain

Fed through a line in my vain

Of in these waken hours

Haveing to make believe in a convenient lie told

It's the old routine of long rides on short bus

Pride is usually just some cheap trinket pull out of pockets and shown

Once had a colorful backpack that had a blue dinosaurs on it with sunglasses

There was no running in the hall

A converted stager closet was my homeroom

The Image stuck in my head of bottles label with crossbones in the corner

The owners of what will become my inherit hurt

It not worth much these days

Said an old Jewish man at the pawn shop

He told me of the fights he once had in his front lawn as a boy

And sold me a toy gun

I talk funny and was thought of as queer

Left here cause I wasn't right

Led to believe that my existing was the product of American greatness

Said that if this was China I would be abraded at the age of twelve

If ever you could be love without never wanting to know pain

They mainstream you

Pick you first for their team

You ask a girl out on a whim

Her words wasn't meant to be kind

You hide behind head nods

Finding excuses not to read out loud

Used the one where there's something in your eye

And in the boys stall you stood till they call upon who ever next

Backwards written text

You're package as special

Lucky if you meet minimum wage of the age eighty

Taught by teachers that we was the product of crack fiends parents

Why even bother with college?

The fatherless ******* of slaves owners

A truth known to whites and blacks alike

Those of who you claim lack your intellect

Tell of none of my hurt

A lone inhabitant of a bitter earth

I bit of it sour fruit

Pour a cup of tea

That was neither hot or cold

I hold it to my lips

It not warmth or comfort I seek

But rather an uninvited truth

All that's known are the inherit lies of a puppet frog

For I am not the owner of sorrow but rather the borrower

Waiting for tomorrow as it only a day away

Who might I be then

A me that's slow but yet still flow from a stream out into a river

For I am the son who's the giver of his mother love

None of your words will be the sum of my faults

The vault that seal such memories that pain

And the healing words of a cartoon turtle

No matter how slow I travel I near ever closer in my journey
Emery Feine Sep 2024
I shouldn't have to hide that you hit me
I shouldn't have to hide my tears
I shouldn't have to fake a smile at you saying my legs were big
Because you couldn't have known that it was one of my fears

I shouldn't have to listen to you yell at the TV screen
I shouldn't have to ramble to feel seen
I shouldn't have to make up a reason for you to go
And that's just something I think you should know
this is my 46th poem, written on 11/12/23. yes all of this did happen !! I had a red mark on my face for like a week or so oml
Emery Feine Sep 2024
I walked from place to place
Never leaving behind a trace

There's so many people I've left behind
To carry on, no matter how kind

Some things were harder to let go of
Maybe because some just had a stronger love

I've seen the most beautiful places
Befriended the kindest faces

And I've learned so much about myself too
Me leaving is something we never knew

It's for the better, at least I hope
Maybe this is just how I cope?

I'm sorry, I must go
I just wanted to let you know

I'll travel to where my heart can't feel pain
I'll leave you just to make me feel sane

My heart has belonged to many places throughout time
But with no home that I could call mine
this was my 30th poem, written on 9/23/23. they literally ****** I should have left
Sam Lee Riggs Sep 2024
The bright light reflects
from my tear filled eyes
With countless vents
It is time to say goodbye
And I don’t reach out

My identity is a circus act
For those who find it amusing
I am not to overreact
Yet I am still self accusing
And I don’t reach out

I have to put up with more
Than anyone else
I have more to endure
In a world of parallels.
And I don’t reach out

I’m the human embodiment of Atlas
Holding up everything unfurled
But the sky isn’t just mine, alas
Not everyone is rivaled
And I reach out
Wrote this last academic school year, I was tired of being picked on for being trans *****
Catherine Alysha Aug 2024
At morning you wake,
the sun burning your eyes,
you wonder how much more it will take,
until you reach your demise,

you're already counting down the hours left in the day,
terrified for what's ahead,
planning how to get away,
from all the words they haven't yet said,

you start your slow walk to school,
with your earphones full blast,
levitating straight down the hall,
please can this day be the last,

it's hard not to think it's your own fault,
when you're the reciever of every stare,
and the target of every insult,
that plunges you further into despair,

you want to scream "what did I ever do to you?",
for them to treat you like **** on their shoe,
to have your spirit beaten black and blue,

how can people tell you to ignore it,
when everyday you take a hit,
you reported them but it was no use,
they practically just tied your noose,

so inside it you place your head,
and you do as they wished,
so now you're dead,
then they'll say how much you'll be missed
Chelsea Quigley Mar 2024
My pain,
Makes you smile.
Nothing better
Then hurting a child.

Your scolded,
Yet you resume.
Torturous
Each day at school.

And you continue ,
Until shame greets you.
But you pretend ,
And offend,

Until you find someone new.
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