How is it fair to keep letting an 8 year old boy suffer? How much more are you going to throw on his plate before you let up? Huh, God? Can you answer me that? How much is too much? How much before you decide that he has suffered enough?! My patience is wearing thin God. My belief in you is nil. Why would I believe there is a loving God when you decide to take from a child?! He’s destroyed you know God. Wrecked. He keeps asking me why. What the fuck do you want me to say to him?!
Make me suffer. Make me hurt. Make me sad. Leave him alone already. LEAVE HIM ALONE. He told me yesterday that this past year and a half was the best time of his life. She took him everywhere. She loved him so much and he loved her. Why do you keep selfishly taking people away from him? Why do you keep making him feel like there’s no one in his life? God, you are dwindling in my eyes. I don’t believe in you much anymore.
My brother barely sleeps anymore, you know? Has nightmares he says. Can’t sleep because he dreams he’s dying. All because you took her away from him. You are a sadistical fuck, aren’t you? Do you get off on making people hurt? Do you get off on taking good people away?! One day I’d like an answer. I’d like absolution.
Until then I don’t really think much of you.
They walk through the hallways hidden.
Eyes down to the ground, hoodie covering their face.
They do all they can to be invisible.
They do all the can to go unnoticed throughout the day,
but the inevitable happens.
The first push and the second shove.
Pushed on the ground, papers scattered.
They are the bullied, the beaten, the broken.
They try to comprehend the why but can’t.
A little too different, a little too odd.
The no name brand clothing and the black attire.
The no care attitude, the no friend’s around.
They are the nameless, the nothings, the victims.
They are the pained, the hurt, the retaliaters.
You lay blame in those bullied, in those beat down.
You place fault in the families when it’s your children.
The popular children who beat down the weak.
The rich kids who break the poor.
Unrelenting in their taunting, unrelenting in the abuse.
You lay blame in the bullied for retaliating.
You wonder why? Why did he shoot up the school?
You wonder why he sought revenge in such a final way.
You seek for answers when they stand before you.
Ask your children why he brought a gun to school.
Ask your children why he only attacked the popular kids
Ask your children why he aimed at teachers,
the ones too busy to notice what was there.
Ask your children as to why? Why did he do this?
Ask your children why he killed them all.
Ask your children why he turned the gun on himself
Do not lay blame solely on him.
Do not place blame just on his actions.
Every action has a consequence.
Every action has a repercussion.
So do not lay the blame just on him.
He is at fault for his actions following,
but before then who knows?
Do you think he would have done such a thing
if he hadn’t of been pushed to the ground?
Do you think he would have pulled the trigger
if he was treated like the others?
Ask yourself these questions when you lie awake at night.
Ask yourself these questions when you think your children aren’t to blame.
They’re all to blame. They’re all at fault. Words do more damage then known.
Do not lay blame solely on the attacker because he was attacked once too.
Not since Aretha Franklin’s R-E-S-P-E-C-T have I seen so many artist’s spelling words in their songs. It’s like they are trying to convince themselves or convince their audiences that, yes indeed, they can spell. Yes indeed, they are smart enough to spell such difficult words.
Who knew that Danity Kane could spell such words as H-E-A-R-T or that said heart is oh so D-A-M-A-G-E-D? They are in such pain about their damaged hearts that they have to convey that message to you by spelling the words. It’s amazing that they even could muster up such words as their hearts broke into so many pieces. I mean really, I am utterly impressed that their vocabulary is so large.
Then there is Fergie who has begun to spell words in practically every song she sings. There’s G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S and D-E-L-I-C-I-O-U-S. Did we really need to know how glamorous or delicious Fergie is? Like we can’t tell by how much money she makes or simply just by looking at her. Also, if you cared to know Fergie is absolutely T-A-S-T-Y. Doesn’t that just make you want to go lick her epicenter? 
Now the saddest thing out there is that she even needs to spell her name outloud just in case she forgets. It’s F to the E-R-G the I the E. The poor dear doesn’t even remember how to spell her name so she has to remind herself daily. It’s either that or she wants you to never forget her name, not that the name Fergie is so familiar that you’d forget.
I don’t know who they are trying to please more, themselves or their audience. Do you ever wonder if while they are performing live they misspell the words that they are trying to spell. That would be pure entertainment in itself if they stumbled on the words trying to remember how to spell such words as delicious or tasty.
So in order to become famous, to make millions, to make it big you must whore out your spelling. You need to beg for R-E-S-P-E-C-T. You need to be D-E-L-I-C-I-O-U-S. Most of all you need to be G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S. Sing your spelling words adn you will earn millions.
She’s never felt more broken in her life. She looked in the mirror at her sunken in eyes and shuttered. She had cried for so long and so hard her eyes were not only bloodshot but her face was streaked with tear stained mascara. The thought of having to face people she didn’t want to be around made her tremble. She didn’t want to have to deal with the constant questions. Not tonight of all nights. Not tonight.
Underneath her hard exterior she was crumbling. She worked so hard to keep that wall up so no one could get in. The night they met though he changed her world. The words he said mirrored hers. It was so odd how they were so in sync with each other. The sadness in his words made her heart ache. She wanted to reach inside of him and show him the love he deserved.
The night that they sat on the rocks and talked for hours was heaven. She felt like things were finally in place. She felt comfortable. She felt normal around him. He rolled up his sleeves in mid sentence to show her how much pain he felt. One by one she traced the lines of his self inflicted scars wishing she could take them away. She gently leaned over and kissed them. Not just one scar but all of them. She wanted to show him tenderness. He deserved to know what it felt like to be wanted and not just discarded. She knew too well the feelings of hatred welling up inside.
As she kissed his scars she looked up at his face and saw peace. His eyes fluttered slightly but remained closed, soaking up the sweetness of her lips touching him. She wasn’t just touching him, she was kissing away the remains of torture. She was kissing his scars. He couldn’t quite fathom why she would do such a thing but he didn’t want the feeling to stop.
That night they stood there and shared something. They shared the hope that maybe things could be different. He kept telling her he knew he’d die by his own hand but at least for a night he was at peace. The cold brisk air penetrated their sweatshirts making them shiver but all the while refusing to move from that spot.
She believed him when he said he would eventually commit suicide. She looked in his eyes and saw the vacant look in his face. She saw the sadness and the pain from all the years of torment. She knew and she believed him but she wanted to show him tranquility at least this once.
The waves crashed up against the rocks and the salty air brushed against their noses. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. Looking up into his, he grabbed her chin and brushed his lips against hers as if questioning her, asking her if it was alright to kiss her. She gently returned the favor kissing his lips and never letting her embrace loosen. She wanted this feeling to last forever, even if forever wasn’t that long.
Now she sits here only a month later with tears welling up in her eyes. Lately the tears won’t stop. She only knew him for a short time, but in that short time he changed her life. She was so angry at him for actually going through with it even though the whole time she knew he was capable of it. She knew he was so full of pain that it was the only way he saw to end it.
So now she sits there, glancing in the mirror and reminscing of her brief encounter with an angel.
What’s the point anymore? I mean really, why the hell do I bother to help people when it simply bites me in the ass? I get bitched at for an hour. I get whined at about things that are unfair, unjust and wrong. So what do I do? I try and help the situation. I try to stand up for a friend and somehow I look like the asshole in the end. After all the bitching and after me posting trying to help I get don’t help me anymore. Why the hell did I do in the first place then? What was it’s purpose? I’m just proven again that it’s pointless to try and help people. It somehow gets turned around and I’m to blame for something that I had originally nothing to do with.
I’m really tired of feeling like a doormat. I’m constantly trying to resolve situations. I’m always trying to fix other people’s battles and problems. For what? For a headache and an irritable mind.
Don’t waste your breath trying to save people, mmk? Eventually you will just mess up your mind with other people’s drama. Don’t bother because when things fail or they seemingly change their mind you will be the one to blame.
Idiot.
I was lost in such a sea of self doubt and hatred. I was sucked into this vortex. It spun my head round and round, until I didn’t know which way was up. I feel like my life has been stuck like this for so long now. It’s just been spinning as if stuck on the spin cycle of a washing machine. The pain is never ending sometimes. Stuck in this limbo I felt myself slowly start to fade. Dirty laundry never comes clean, my life stays stained forever. Do you see the similarities??
I am a dirty person. I have created so much conflict within my life I don’t know if it’s worth fixing anymore. Some people say I’m heartless and some say I speak with too much passion. Should I be passionless instead of passionate? Should I walk through life with no feelings at all because too be honest with you, that’s where my life is headed? I feel myself just trying to void out all emotions, that way I don’t have to show I feel at all. I don’t want to feel if all I feel is pain. Why would I want to feel this way forever?
It’s amazing how heartless people are lately. I extend my thoughts and concern. I spread myself thin helping everyone else, but myself. The problem now becomes this: When I want to talk or possibly vent everyone fucks off. Isn’t it amazing how people can take, take, take but never offer a hand? I’m sick of feeling like a fuckin’ sponge. Screw it I guess and screw everyone that’s successfully pissed me off. You aren’t worth it at all.
Words on a screen do not define a person. They do not decipher what type of personality one might have, what type of human being a person may or may not be and it most certainly does not give you an indepth view on a person. It’s sad that just by me typing you are judging and trying to decide what type of person I am. I could type a bunch of jumbled up words and you’d still sit their trying to put me in a perfect cookie cutter category. The truth is you will never be able to define a person based on words. To me it’s a mere impossibility. How can one define another human being by words? How can you possibly know me when you don’t “really” know me? Until you meet me in person you can’t guarantee anything. You can’t guarantee that your idea of who I am is accurate. It’s not logical and it makes no sense.
Figure this. If I sit here and type a huge long rant about where my life is at the moment and use every inconceivable cuss word possible. Your assessment of me is that of an angry female. Someone who will inevitably explode into a volcano of anger and damage some poor soul. The end result is you thinking negatively of me. Now, think of this. What if my day was surrounded by pure negativity? What if I spent the whole day stressing about things or even possibly becoming ultimately depressed by something that has happened? By me typing up that big rant with cuss words I’m merely venting my frustrations on the days events. Instead of asking me what in the world could have gotten me so stressed out and so upset, you’ve decided to judge me. You’ve decided to say, “hey this girl is a problem. we need to shut her down and shut her off.” Why not sit here and ask why I’m so upset? Why not sit there and say “oh my god. what is wrong hun? what has happened?” You merely judge based on words on a screen when in reality you haven’t given me the opportunity to show what I’m really about.
You shun people because they are hurting. You chastise people because when they vent they are a bit colorful so to say. They couldn’t possibly be having a bad day, that’s not plausible. It must be that they are a troublemaker and are simply trying to start a riot. It’s sad that you only see what you want in people and not what’s really there. It’s sad that you close your eyes to actually knowing someone. You could blindly walk away from a great friend but because you choose to judge someone based on words on a screen you will never get to know them.
It’s tragic that you are that way. It’s sad that you judge me based on words. I’m sure you are judging me as you are reading this and for that I find you mildly pathetic. In all actuality if you met me in person you’d see what a loving person I can be. You will never see that side of me though because you already have your mind made up. You already believe that I’m an awful person. To be honest, what it boils down to is this: you weren’t and aren’t worth my time if you aren’t willing to see beyond an angry girl’s rant.
Point blank. End of rant. Have a lovely day now.
Dear Life,
I am so tired of all of this shit. It gets tiring when people continuously judge you based on words on a screen and don’t bother to truly get to know you. None of you people know me. None of you have ever bothered to take a fuckin’ second to try. So, who the hell are you to judge me? I am an open book and you have constantly slammed me shut. The things you have said about me and the things you have done are unforgiveable.
What breaks my heart is the fact that when everything happened you automatically blamed me. The truth is you were looking for me to falter, you were waiting and sadly you targetted the wrong person. Why do you always think that I am at fault for everything negative? It tears me down and breaks me down. It wears on ones conscience to know that they are viewed in such a negative light. I’m sorry. I”m sorry for you. You are shallow, closeminded and a liar. Stop pretending to care in front of my eyes. I know that it’s all a charade. You truly are pathetic and when your precious walls come crumbling down I will be on the other side smiling at your demise, for you have been doing that to me for ages now.
You have made me turn away from a place I once loved, a place I once felt loved and safe is now a place to destroy me. Thanks for that….you know who you are!!!
I
There’s the stigmata
that she will never change
she will never be any better
any different
she dives into her pain
alone
she doesn’t ask for help anymore
for fear that she will be named
labelled again
the angry girl
who will never change
II
There’s the stigmata
that she will always
be angry
hateful
vengeful
she’s tired of it all
tired of the whispers
the words behind her back
from friends untrue
she’s tired of the perception
people have of her
she wishes they’d take time
to see her for who
she really is
III
Behind the anger
there’s so much love
behind the hurt
there’s someone so sweet
so kind
so genuine
but they refuse to see
beyond the stigmata
that she will never change
IV
How can she change
when people keep telling ehr
it’s impossible
they keep showing her
keep living in the past
dwelling on mistakes she made
long ago
not letting go of the befores
not focusing on the now
the stigmata lives on
because people aren’t willing
to open their eyes and see
aren’t willing to believe
that change is possible
V
There’s the stigmata
that she will never change
she will never be any better
any different
she dives into her pain
alone
she doesn’t ask for help
anymore
she fears she will be named
labelled again
dubbed the angry girl
and there within her heart
the stigmata remains
the girl who will never
ever
change
She seemingly will never change. Nothing about her will ever be good. She will be stuck, forever bound with the stigmata of being an angry girl. An angry girl who has officially grown into an angry woman. Sadly, they refuse to see that she wasn’t always angry and that she’s trying to not be angry anymore. The problem lies within the thought process running rampant in her mind. The thought that all people are out to get her, all people are out to hurt her and all people will end up destroying her.
She wasn’t always angry. She was carefree, happy and filled with life. Along the lines of growing up that happiness drained. It was like she was unplugged and the happiness was siphoned from her body leaving a lifeless, hateful girl. How can she manage to stay happy when the people she considered friends and loved ones broke her spirit? Her body, mind and soul were violated in inexplicable ways and they still wanted her to smile. She decided that she’d paint on the smile and pretend for them, when all the while she was breaking inside. She was losing the very essence of who she was as a person. The only thing though that people cared about was that she was a well behaved young lady, not that she was severly broken and drowning little by little. The weight of her life and her secrets weighing down on her and shoving her beneath the currents of everyday life.
Life seemed to suffocate her at every turn. She began isolating herself from the world. For years now she’s left herself with no friends, no hope, no help…nothing. She didn’t care anymore, she just wanted to be left alone. She wanted to be away from the hurt, but no matter how hard she tried she always seemed to get hurt.
Now she sits alone. She spends time with only one person. She loves him unconditionally and would die for him. He is her only friend. That way she’s safe. Safe from the world. Away from the people who want to hurt her yet somehow she will never be completely safe. She will always be haunted by her memories of all the hate and regret. And that makes her cry.
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