You Are Wrong

I live like the ups are mountains & the downs are cliffs. A wave of antidepressants that are just trying to fix… Me. Trying to keep my sanity. And if I break, but no one chooses to hear, will I make a sound? Will solace ever come my way? Will it ever be found? Don't tell me that words spit at me like acid don't hurt worse than stones and shattered bones. Because you can mend a bone. But not a broken heart. So throw your arsenal of words and see who survives it. See if anyone will make it out alive. The hallways are a battle ground and I have always been greatly outnumbered. I would bring bruises and cuts to show and tell, but I never told. How am I supposed to hold my ground, if everyone is trying to bury me underneath it. Don't you dare say that the faded echoes in my dreams of kids calling me names won't ever hurt me. Why can't you see? You are wrong. And you always will be. 


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