knives in my heart

Kindergarten I've been called a liar.

First grade I've been called a cheater.

Second grade I've been called an idiot.

Third grade I was called retarded.

Fourth grade I've been called reclusive.

Fifth grade I've been called emo.

Sixth grade I've been called bitch.

Seventh grade I've been called faggot.

Eighth grade I've been called demonic.

Ninth grade will call me weird.

Tenth grade will call me a whore.

Eleventh grade will call me a backstabber.

Twelfth grade will call me loner.

College will call me stupid.

Life will call me a joke.

Death will call me unworthy.

Dance calls me untalented.

Art calls me annoying.

Auditoriums call me terrible.

Girls call me an ass.

Boys call me a freak.

My parents call me ungrateful.

At night these names haunt me.

At night is when they really get to me.

At 3 A.M. every night

That's where you'll find me.

With a blade in hand I draw a pretty picture.

I draw in a dazzling red.

And boy, does it dazzle.

By day I'm far away from food.

I can't eat that, heavens no!

I'll get fat.

Another name they'll call me.

Honestly, I'm lonely and scared.

There's only a couple who believe in me.

They are my only light,

My only hope to survive.

This is the story of a thirteen year old girl.

Bullied by everyone,

Loved by two,

Hated by most.

Am I fat?

Am I ugly?

Am I a faggot?

Am I an emo freak?

I want to live.

I want to die.

I want to believe.

The question is,

...can I survive the words

That are stuck in my head

Which turn to knives

That pierce my heart?

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