I still don't know why or how I became an outcast
Was it something I did?
I used to try
I tried very hard
I'd change my look, dye my hair, & paint myself with makeup
But still, every class, every weekend, everyday
I am alone
As I walk I can feel the stares etching words into my mind
Crazy, weird, homeless, ugly, outcast
I know I am these things but what makes me so bad?
If only we could live on an earth that didn't judge
So many things we have to do to accept our fate as outcasts
We cutt our wrists and fill ourselves with drugs just to slightly reduce the pain
Every bridge we walk by we struggle not to jump
Every open medicine cabinet, knife, rope, tall building & funeral
All reminders of my everyday struggle between life and death
Life is fragile, anyone can end it, it's just hard ro decide when