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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Adult · #1765930
I know what it's like to be a teenage girl- I am one.
My name, held so tight,

My height, changing ever so slight,

My eyes, as ugly as can be,

My weight, as fat as can be seen,



Agonizing pain, I was brought into this world,

Agonizing pain, I am going to be taken out,

Agonizing pain, Of which everyone knows

Agonizing pain, Seen by only me



Year one of my life, I was jondous, death on the edge

Year two of my life, My father came into my life, with nothing left the same

Year three of my life, I talked to my mother, with full sentences, young and naive

Year four of my life, I encountered my first knife while playing with play-dough

Year five of my life, I started kindergarted, and wished for that knife again

Year six of my life, My teacher called me fat, I fell down from my naive state

Year seven of my life, My little sister came into the world, with her to see what will soon be

Year eight of my life, My little brother came into my life, without as much as a glance from me

Year nine of my life, I tried my first drink, and liked what I tasted

Year ten of my life, I saw the need for hatred fro me, for the world has no love

Year eleven of my life, Kids asked me why I was so fat, not caring about me

Year twelve of my life, I started homeschooling, to get away from the pain

Year thirteen of my life, I almost died, the knife in my right hand, cutting the left wrist.

Year fourteen of my life, this year, I don't feel as though I should die, but yet not live either, but it's just this year



Every day of my life,

I have been ridiculed

Because of my looks,

My talents,

Because humankind is cruel



I take every single pain, and stow it away,

Alll the bruises,

All the scrapes,

All the hatred-filled lies,

Masked by false love



Every time I stay awake in bed,

Looking to the heavens for love and peace,

I think to myself,

"Why Do I care anymore,

For no one care about me,

Not anymore,

Because I am not cute,

I am not pretty,

I am ugly,

I am full of blood,

That could be for someone else.

Why do I care,

If I am a no one to everyone?"



As I grow,

Becoming a young woman,

I feel the urge to stop it right here,

Because everyone sees girls,

Either beutiful,

Being filled with smart,

Or the likes of me,

Being stupid,

And not giving a single last thought



I stare into the mirror,

Tears flooding my eyes from the torture

The humilliation of looking like me,

Why do I continue living,

Yet another day,

Even though I know I shouldn't try



I might as well say goodbye,



What does it matter,

If I exist anyway?

One less girl to be tortured, trying to be beutiful,

One less girl to be hated, for something she doesn't understand,

One less girl to have one less birthday, of which I don't care,

One less girl to live in a place where beuty is everything,

Or I am nothing.
© Copyright 2011 Kriss Talon (bringmetolife at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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