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Sometimes I wonder
Who sees me for me
And who just sees a person

Does it make it easier for them
To target a faceless person
Rather than a ******

Is that all I am
A ******
Just a messed up person
Whose brain forces harm

What makes me so different than you?
Than the normal ones

Where are the ones who arise for us
Have they all disappeared?
Left us for death?
Tell me what you think.
This pen and paper
My future
Do they co-exist?
I live pouring my heart out
Who cares though
People question
Why I do what I do
Why should it matter to them?
It's my life
I'm not harming you
Actually if anything
I'm causing myself
To be vulnerable
All out in the open
Right there for anyone
Plain as day
Just like the words here
The only thing you won't know
Is the exact meaning
I'll keep those locked away
Forever hidden
Everything else is an open book
Go ahead and read
Read what I've longed to share
Try to decipher it
Like I've had to do
Many a time before
Until then here I am
On the shelf
Waiting to be opened
Tell me what you think
What is normal?
Is it even real?
Why can't we just be ourselves
Not be judged
By strangers
People who know nothing about us
They don't know the uncomfortable feelings
The hate already being thrown our way
Inhumane words
Hitting our shields
They're breaking now
Being smashed
I know mine is almost done for
It might as well be gone
Yet the knives are still being thrown
Heading right for me
Hitting the target
Trying to hit us
Right where it hurts
Will there ever be a day
When we are no longer judged for us
No longer tossed away like expired food
Kicked out of our own home
Seeking shelter
But then being abused
For just being who we are
When are we going to stop being the target
Stop being the abused
Can we not be humiliated and judged
Why can't we just be?
Just be who we are without being hated
Let me know what you think.
I want it to stop
Time is what I need
Too many things going on
I just need a breather

A break that's what I need
Thoughts buzzing
Zooming all over
Never catching just one

Sometimes I just wish my brain
Was a file cabinet
I could easily organize everything
Maybe I wouldn't be going crazy

My mind feels blank
But in reality
It's full
Too full

Maybe that's the reason I'm lazy
My brain works overtime
Not just normal overtime
But severe overtime

I'm trying
Trying my hardest
To just breathe
I wrote this when I was really stressed out and couldn't seem to get anything straight.

— The End —