For Those Who Try To "Help" (Please Stop) | Teen Ink

For Those Who Try To "Help" (Please Stop)

August 31, 2014
By GraceTheFriendlyGhost SILVER, Midland, Michigan
GraceTheFriendlyGhost SILVER, Midland, Michigan
8 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:

I am like a shooting star

in that oftentimes,

most of the world will only find me beautiful

when I am falling.

There is something romantic in the concept

of a broken girl,

waiting for a superhero or

a knight in shining armor to show up

with some duct tape and crazy glue,

just in time to fix her. 


But what they don’t know, is that

it’s the sharp of the needle 

that pulls the stitches through the skin.

A superhero will not hurt you to help you heal, so 

sometimes, you have to patch yourself up.

I’ve always been a crooked scarecrow,

maybe missing some of my insides, but

no one ever steals from my garden.

I’m good at protecting what I love, 

and pardon me, 


but you did not teach me to love myself.

No one ever wishes on a shooting star

after it crashes, so

when I hit rock bottom,


I have faith that I can teach myself

to bounce back.

When I find myself surrounded by my own rubble,

I’ll shake the dust until the storm is enough

to motivate me to clear my mind.

We all have landscapes in our bones,

and when you hear the crash of an avalanche,

your first instinct is to run.

When the earthquake shakes the paintings

from your living room walls, 

your first instinct is to move away.

If I break down in the forest,

and you are not there to hear me,

will I make a sound? 

I am a disaster sometimes, and

there is nothing romantic about that.

You cannot rescue a wildfire.

You cannot look at my crumbling mountainsides

and tell me that 

the broken parts of me 

are the prettiest.

You cannot tell me you love me

when all you see when you look at me

is something that needs to be fixed.


You know,

I’ve always been an ugly crier.

I have scratch marks on my neck when I emerge

from panic attacks.

And when I get pissed, 

I swear like a drunken uncle.

I am not beautiful when I am sad.


I am beautiful like kryptonite,

beautiful like the mud in my rusted, 

removal armor.

I am beautiful like the crater in the ground

where the meteor hits; the strength 

of something that 

fell and survived.

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This article has 2 comments.

on Sep. 21 2014 at 8:55 pm
GraceTheFriendlyGhost SILVER, Midland, Michigan
8 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:

oh man <3 thank you so much!! you're so nice xo

Savannah said...
on Sep. 7 2014 at 7:43 pm
This poem is so far beyond beautiful, I do not have words accurate enough to describe it. It isn't often that I really love something written by a fellow teen. But well done, I love this. Don't ever stop writing. xoxo