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The Feeling
Feeling worthless, used, torn, unworthy. Maybe shattered and broken and fragmented. Sometimes frustrated, crazy, and a nobody.
It's like i'm nothing, and if i'm nothing, then who are you? Are you nobody too?
Because sometimes even though you have a name, doesn't mean they call you by that. Just because you have a face, does not mean they'll acknowledge it.
And if you're like me, then you aren't seen, just a nobody flying with no wings.
And even though you hide behind the pearly white smile, you're broken, emotionally damaged,or just damaged goods.
And then you go home to wonder why, lie in bed and cry, but all you can do is sleep away the pain, but even then you just try.
The how amazes me, the why even more, the time inappropriate, the what astonishing, but it's the who that kills me a little more every time.
The voices never die, and the words never get easy, can't you leave me alone, you have finished your job once and for all.
And i'm loosing myself and who I am, a victim of gossip and hate, and for that, I have my bully to thank.
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