Unbroken

Unbroken

 

 

Whispers.

Oh my god.

Did you see her?

She doesn’t wear any makeup.

She acts so perfect, thinking she’s better than everyone else.

She’s such a hypocrite.

Can you believe what she just said?

She’s so naïve.

 

Help.

Just ignore them.

There’s nothing we can do.

It’ll toughen you up.

 

Ignore.

Ignore.

Ignore.

Confront.

 

You’re right.

I don’t wear makeup,

            I wear a mask.

I don’t show my scars because

            I’m so covered by them you can’t tell

                        what’s skin.

I’m sorry, how do you see the splinter in my eye

            through the log in your own?

            Because I know you can’t see any forest

                        through that tree.

 

I’m naïve?

I naïvely trusted,

I naïvely got my heart broken and

I naïvely chose not to tell you to kiss my ass.

 

It’ll toughen me up?

Words and stones both break these bones,

            but a bone never breaks in the same place

                        twice.

So throw.

Because I’m running out of unbroken space.

 

I hope you remember there was

Nothing you could do when these

Words are the last nail in the

Coffin of my early life.

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is for anyone who, like me, has been the victim of bullying and was told nothing could be done about it or that it was a good life lesson, and to all those who lost the fight. It's our job to stand up and fight the apathy and stigma of bullying, among children, teenagers, and adults. We're all victims, even the bullies themselves. It's time to take a stand and put a stop to this. Don't let this poem become someone else's eulogy.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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