It hurts so much.

The pain,
the memories,
the sadness.

All. Because. Of. You.

People say actions are
more important than words.
But you’ve just proven
how wrong that is.

Retard. Ugly. Pathetic.

Those are the words you use to describe

me.

In your mind, they are just words.
In my mind, they are sounds that are
as sharp as swords.

These names slice through me
everyday.

They cut,
bruise,
and beat
my heart.

Because of you,
I don’t know if I will be able
to stitch back
the wound that you created.

I want to find the key
to lock the anger,
to release the depression,
to forget what you did to me.

But how can I, when everyday is spent 

cowering underneath

your hateful presence.

The memories keep me awake.

I feel numb.

I feel weak.

I feel nothing.

I used to wake up from

n  i  g  h  t  m  a  r  e  s
But now, my whole life is

one.

You  t a u n t ,  y e l l ,  and  l a u g h  at me.

You use my f
                 e
                 e
                 l
                 i
                 n
                 g
                 s like s
                          t
                          r
                          i
                          n
                          g
                          s to play with.

Because of you,
I am tired of being an
emotionally
dysfunctional
human
being.

So now

it’s my turn.

I’m going to start fighting back.