I am tired of being used
like medicine to cure other people
when I'm unable to cure myself,

I am tired of being thrown to the side
like a crumpled up peace of paper
that once mattered to you,

I am tired of living in a world where
the only people considered your friends
are the ones who are truly your enemies,

I am tired of having to defend myself
for my actions of for my words

I am tired of being tired

How can this smile...trick them?
How can it hide a million tears?
       A thousand cuts?

How can it make them think everything is perfect?
How can it hide a world of pain?
       A mind of torture?

You people think I care,
When you call me these names.
You think I haven't heard them all before.
But I will only ask one question,
If you are not a ****, and I am not like you,
Does that mean I am a ****?
Because yes I'm not like you...

Dear Random Strangers,
            
Your sideways glances and whispered remarks have been noticed.
What you think has no effect actually means the world.
I would like to ask you...
No...Beg you...
To please stop judging me because of the marks on my wrist,
Allow me the chance to tell you my story,
Before you put the damaged book in the trash.
I know my corners are dog-ear,
Yes some pages are ripped,
And my cover is torn and scratched.
But looks can be deceiving.

Random Stranger, I know we haven't met
But every time one person disregards me,
It becomes more easy to believe I am trash,
And it makes me want to throw myself away...