slambehindthecurtainscholarship Slam Behind the Curtain.
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Hello world, my name is Yasmine but most of you know me as Anonymous,That socially awkward, quiet girl who's always hiding from you, even though I'm right in front of your face.
Everyday
Constant pain
Feeling like my head is going to
Explode
Escaping reality
Escaping the pain
They don't understand
They don't believe me
I hide
The pain
Abandoned, left alone
Sullen, with a heavy heart
Smiling in the play of life is just a part
I’ve spent so long being strong, acting happy, trying to be
Normal.
Pressure welling up like black
Sludge in my throat in my lungs in my head.
The fake smile falters
The mask begins to slip
Never have I seen anything about myself as flawless;
The cuts that once covered my body, like paint strokes on a damaged canvas,
Sometimes I think the demons inside of me aren't gone but dormant sleeping inside of me.
You know that girl who's always smiling and laughing,
That girl who isn't popular, but everyone likes her,
That girl who can cheer anyone up within seconds,
That girl who loves and cares for everyone?
You know that girl who's always smiling and laughing,
That girl who isn't popular, but everyone likes her,
That girl who can cheer anyone up within seconds,
That girl who loves and cares for everyone?
Just like that,
I curl inside the empty cavern between rib bones and hip joints,
just like that,
Within the eyes of the beholder, a dark past derives,
An everlasting burden, on the memory of her own,
The true essence of her being is slightly obscured,
Shadowing the life within.
Am I bound in this one body?
I have such a multifarious disposition that it seems it cannot be so.
Yet I am
Here, all of me.
I lack symmetry,
but doesn't everyone?
I am Batman
Hidden behind a mask
Used to hide my true identity
With this mask on I am fearless
I can be a savior,
I am worth something.
I wear a black suit of armor
Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
Pay no attention to the fact that he is hurting.
Try to Novacane the pain he doesn't want to feel.
Turn a blind eye to the things he can't conceal.
Wake up late,
Mornings I hate
Don't like leaving my bed
The smell of bacon
Brings a cravin'
Jam spread over bread
Hash browns or home fries
Always satisfies
Kethchup on top
Chasing her, tailing her, wanting her.
Every second, every minute, every hour, every day.
She is the most petite, little thing
I clutch my heart every time I see her move
I choked on the words
as my tongue tried to string together
all the vowels and consonants
Brie is a thinker, a poet, a cheese,
A listener, a riot, a lock with no key,
A loner, a friend, an open door in the cold,
I'm naked.There are those that hide their bare bodiesfrom the worldwith cloaks of satin curtain hanging from their skeletons.
Reading! Writting! Things that make people cringe but makes smilegive me words over sports give me a book over TV
Who am I?
See I must be straight Hip-Hop,
And just don’t assume the music so just stop,
I mean hip-hop
Every morning I put on full body spanx
And I turn to the side
And I look at myself in the mirror
And I pinch at my stomach
And I wish I was some other girl
I walk through the halls of my school
Some people view me to be as fragile as glass,
Very fragile and not built to last,
As if I'll shatter into pieces if something horrible were to happen to me,
But they don't see,
Remember to keep it behind the curtain
Everything that makes me have a brain.
Everything that makes you have a heart.
For we must go about our day, without droping our curtain.
my ancestors were nomads, my mom always told me.
my great-grandmother lived through the great depression
by travelling from place to place.
my great-grandmother lived with a man
Am I Really That Strong?
They say, she's smart and strong.
But they don't know what's really going on.
It happens to us all
The weak, mighty, and small
Each one taking carful strides
Hiding behind the veil of lies
We can’t let them see them see what’s beneath
For if they do, what might they think?
I do not hide behind a curtain.
Curtains are easily swept away.
I am trapped behind glass,
one moment I am visible,
then my breath fogs up your view.
You will never truly see me,
unless I let you.
The Masquerade is a sick rite of passage that is taught.
As we grow older more people arrive
donning new physiques to hide their true selves
to become more appealing.
I don’t recall arriving—
I too hide behind a curtain
Much like the Wizard in Oz
I master in hiding my true self,
So others don’t see my flaws.
But my true self, I will attempt to express to you
Pay no attention to the girl behind the curtain.
She never speaks.
No, not a peep.
