Since I was around 8 years old, I loved writing poetry and songs. Granted, they were probably terrible, but they gave me that opportunity to create something from my own thoughts and feelings. In the same way that music (I played flute, keyboard, guitar, and I sang in choirs) helped me to express myself, so did writing. I kept a lot of my songs quiet. This was partly due to how much I criticised myself, but was also due to the fact that I once brought to school a print out of a song I wrote about bullying and self harm. Clearly I showed this to the wrong person, and it was spread around the school. The words (that I had so honestly poured out onto paper) were suddenly exposed, and ridiculed; which made me even less likely to share something so personal to myself.
I'm very critical of my own writing, and think the point of the poem should've been a little clearer, but as it is relevant to my previous post (Where it all started) I felt that I should post it here.
(TW: Suicidal thoughts, bullying)
The people in the street
They whisper about her as she goes by
They can't know the hurt inside
The pain they cause
She won't speak,
Because you don't listen
She can't love,
Because she's been hurt too many times before
She doesn't cry,
Because it hurts too much
To say goodbye.
And she goes home and cries at night
Because she's too tired to fight
She's given up,
Because there's nothing left but tears,
Because it hurts too much
To say goodbye
Living in nothing
Worst nightmares come to life
You'll never know what you did to this girl
Because it hurts her too much to say goodbye
The people in the street
They whisper about her as she goes by
They can't know the hurt inside
The pain they cause
She'd never tell you
Just how much you hurt her
She'd never tell you
How the whispers cut so deep
She'd never tell you
Because it hurts too much to say goodbye
She won't speak
Because you don't listen
She can't love,
Because she's been hurt too many times before
She doesn't cry,
Because it hurts too much
To say goodbye
And the people in the street
They whisper about her as she goes by
They can't know the hurt inside
The pain they cause
Because it hurts too much to tell them why.
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