Categories > Original > Poetry

Is This What You Call Help?

by HatedEyes 4 reviews

Category: Poetry - Rating: G - Genres:  - Published: 2013-01-20 - Updated: 2013-01-21 - 881 words

Is This What You Call Help? (A Rage in Poetic Form)

You've turned my world into a prison cell,
Stripped me of everything I love.
I don't know how much longer I can be here,
I'll surely go insane from all these thoughts of skeletons.
You've broken me down,
You've not helped me up,
You've left me here,
Dying and all alone.
You'll regret this, you'll regret this,
When I'm not here.
Never once stopped to ask how I felt,
Only there to drive the nail into my skull.
I get it!
I'm sorry!
I won't let you down again!
I wish you'd understand,
But you're too damn proud to let me speak.
I guess I'll just drown now,
Unknown and without a word.
By saying this is for my own good,
Do you understand what this does to me?
Do you realize you're tearing me apart,
Grabbing my skin and pulling it away?
Exposing my bones for the world to see,
Making me weak in the eyes of everyone.
You've broken down my defensive walls,
You've condemned me to a life of depression and hatred,
And you think you're doing good?
Sit there, be proud,
Think you're doing me good.
Your triumph-glazed eyes don't see.
You see what you want to see,
An angel with no flaws.
You don't see what everyone else sees,
A scarred and empty body and red eyes,
And a broken, worn-out girl to match.
Do you think this is going to help me,
Piling up my reasons to go?
Do you think that you're ever going to tame me?
I really don't think so.
I'm not what you wanted,
I'm so sorry, Father dear, Mummy darling,
I'm a rebel at heart and nothing more.
Just admit it,
I'm a screw-up!
I'm a failure!
I'm nothing!
I'm worthless!
I should be dead!
I'm useless!
You don't know it,
But these things haunt my mind every day,
They brainwash me and make me think it's true.
I know it's true, though,
You say it enough.
"You're useless,
You're dumb,
You'll never be what you say you will!"
Guess what?
I will.
I'll be the success that I want to be.
I'll tour the world and sing my heart out for others like me,
Other hopeless dreamers who are told that what they do is wrong,
Other broken girls with protruding ribs and jutting hips,
Other teenage misfits that cry themselves to sleep most nights.
I'll save lives,
Whereas you've almost ended mine.
I'll be the reason they want to live,
Like music is the reason for me to live.
But you've taken that from me, too.
You've taken my life,
Without even realizing.
Murder, in it's cruelest form.
So sit back,
Comfy in your bed, warm in your chair.
You think that therapy might help me,
You think that taking things away will cure me.
You're so wrong,
So beautifully wrong.
Don't mind me,
I'm just spilling my guts,
Crying into my pillow to calm myself.
I've worked myself into a seething rage,
I am a bomb, waiting to go off.
If I had any common sense,
I'd realize this is for the best.
I'd try to move on with my life,
And just leave behind all this strife.
But I don't,
I'm a freak that won't forget.
I bottle up my emotions,
I do this all to myself.
I make the memories,
I leave the scars,
I do this to myself.
You'll think I'm faking this rage,
You'll think this is the thoughts of a girl with a taken privilege,
Alas, alas, that isn't true.
This is the rage of a girl with emotions deeper than the deepest oceans,
These are the tears of a starved soul.
These are the words of a girl who wishes she were dead,
Just so that she was out of the way and could feel no more.
Just say you'll help me.
Say you won't yell.
Say you won't crush my already-thin ice heart.
All I need is a hug,
All I need is to be told everything will be fine.
I know it will be,
I know I'll be fine.
I'm too scared to do this on my own.
Please don't make me.
Did you not go through this?
Did you not go through this torment?
Were you not a teenager,
Willing to test the boundaries?
Were you not a troublemaker at one item?
Or is it only I?
The ones you call 'demons',
Provided more love and more support than you ever have.
Think about that.
It wasn't you that I turned to when I was confused about my sexuality,
It was them.
It wasn't you that I turned to when I wanted to leave and be out of the way,
It was them.
It was them that told me I had so much to live for.
It was them all the way.
I was too shy to tell you how I felt inside.
I was too afraid of being sent to therapy,
Too afraid of being called a 'freak',
Too afraid of being watched 24/7 in case I tried something.
You don't even know.
You don't even know.
You don't even know.
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