How Much It Takes

Location

Slut.
Whispers within earshot
Whore.
Pointing in the hallways
Bitch.
Glances and snickering
Disgusting, ugly, fat ass, dyke, loner, loser, waste of space.

Harsh words are these,
Hanging over your heart as poised daggers
Slashing at it with no remorse,
No heal time, no breaks from the never-ending scratches of pain,
Some needle thin but others scar deep.

Scars, not seen but felt by you.
The confused, upset, hurting, depressed-you,
But, you are not alone.
There are others, other you's.

Others who feel the worthlessnes, who bear a swollen and slow beating heart, who weep before they sleep, who despise themselves not for what they've done but for what others make them believe of themselves.
But the others, the you's, are not worthless.
They do not deserve to be burderned with a heavy heart, they should not need to cry themsleves through dreamless nights or hate themsleves for empty reasons.

The others, the other you's,
Need to just see, if not understand, that they are never alone.

That they are not the only ones fighting the wind in the same directions.
They are not the only ones battling the images in the mirror, the reflection in the window.
They do not need to carry hurt like an infection that takes control of the heart and soul that eats away at them day-by-day night-by-night and that starves the brain of reasons to live. 

Sometimes, it just takes the knowing, that you're not alone.
I, I can promise you
That you are not alone.
Just take it in, that you're not alone.

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