I was once told that

holding in all my emotions

isn't good for me.

I have been told that I don't

have to bear everything alone and

that I could tell you anything.

I was told that if

I cried I wouldn't be the only

one crying.

I was told that I am loved.

Love...

Today I sat

in class with my head down

on my desk ,with my hood on.

I didn't dare look up

or move because

I knew what would happen

next.

It happened anyway.

It happend again,

again and again.

My face was down on my book bag.

I wished I had some ear phones

with my music

blasting loud,

to block out the laughter,

the jokes,

everything.

I sat there.

I didn't say anything back.

sat there wondering what did I ever do

to have this happen to me everyday.

Everyday.

I didn't love myself then.

I was not my own hero.

I sat there and let

myself be tortured.

I kept my face down

untill they stopped.

Love....

When class ended,

I went into the bathroom

to put my lipgloss on

in the mirror.

A girl looked at me and smirked

and said loud enough for everyone to hear:

"Janae you tryin to get you a man?"

I said "No".

Walked out.

Janae, Janae, Janae.

I wish people would

stop saying my name.

In the hallway,

I walked so fast.

I wanted to get away

so bad.

Walked right past two

boys who called out

and said:

"Ay Shorty you look good"!

Then they laughed.

They laughed.

They laughed.

I walked.

Didn't blink.

I was so stone cold I was starting 

to scare myself.

I felt frozen.

Couldn't feel a thing.

But its only 5th period!

5th period.

When I finally got there,

I felt an arm go around my

shoulder.

Then I felt tears on my face.

Again.

Again I was crying.

Again someone was trying to comfort me.

All over again.

I covered my face.

"Its gonna be ok Janae".

NO!

no!

no.

Please stop telling me that.

You don't know.

You don't know what happens.

You don't know what they say.

How it hurts so bad.

That no matter how much I

try not to listen or care.

I go home and

treat myself the same way

they treat me here.

except the scars on my arm

didn't come from them...

Nothing like this ever happens to

you.

Just look at my face.

Somebody told me that I look like I don't ever have good days.

True.

Some days I wish was dead.

Some days like today I actually feel

ready to drop dead.

Wouldn't everything be ok then?

I could just stop being me

for once and be dead.

I won't kill myself though.

Too cliche.

I'll just wait till my time comes.

I will keep it together

untill my heart gives out,

from giving out

as much love to others as I can.

I'll keep it together

until I fall and say I'm tired.

The question is, whos arms

will I fall into?