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Vick H Jan 2018
Alien
That's how I feel around all these girls
I've grown up with since I was 4
I feel as though I might as well be on the moon
At least then I wouldn't get weird looks or get laughed at
They have long hair
Only in 4 colors
Black
Blounde
Brown
Red
They think piercings are gross
unless it's your
Nose
Ears
They all have the small town out look on things
Their opinions on clothes are
Boots
Ugg or cowboy
Blue jeans
Any top with sequins
They have a small out look
Anyokne who's different is
Weird
Freaks
Gross
Ugly
Trash
The List goes on
I get laughed at for being myself
For being
High heels
Short Blue hair
Lip rings
Fishnets
Skirts
Chokers
If you put us all in a crowd and were ask to pick out the one from a big city
It would be me
I've always felt out like an alien with these girls
And my teachers wonder why
Why I'm this way
Alone
Doodling
Back of the class
Quiet with strong opinions
Everyone says New York is gonna give me hell
But New York is gonna fall to it's knees when this alien comes to town
Vick H Dec 2017
Blades slide across our wrists.
Thighs.
Ankles.
Hips.
While the tears fall from our eyes,
our minds are collapsing from the pain.
Our souls are burning with disappointment.
Hate.
Sorrow.
Fear.
Unwanted words of torment are whispered slowly.
Then they get louder and faster.
They start to overtake all the spaces in our heads.
Till they're the only things there.
Till there's no happiness.
Laughter.
Smiles.
Joy.
All we become are unwanted words.
So we push the blades deeper inside.
The deeper we go the more unwanted words slip out of the cracks,
into the world.
They start to escape.
They start to leave.
But when they're gone more unwanted words are received.
So we cut even deeper.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Until we can't go any deeper.
Until they don't slip away anymore.
Until they have become our WORLD.
We cut so deep that the unwanted words,
and our souls
are forgotten.

— The End —