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I'm not what they say.

I lay curled up in a corner
of a room with no light.
My tears will drown me,
i've been here all night.
Down the river, not across the street.
hopefully you've cut deep,
otherwise you're worse off than when you started.
So blood drips from my leg
down to my ankle, on my feet.
The blood is velvet red, bitter sweet.
I cry in the silence of the night.
I bleed and blood flows
only if someone knew.
only if someone understood my pain.
I curl up tighter, hugging my knees.
'pathetic', i think.'all alone.'
I feel my tears dry. my blood dries.
I feel light and pass out.

I open my eyes again. I'm not dead.
I sigh and close my eyes.
I stand up and wash my face.
'disgrace' i mutter. 'failure at life.'
I look in the mirror. Thats not me.
Their words arent true.
They call me :Fatass. Ugly. Stupid.
I agreed.
And maybe, I'm not the skinniest.
I'm far from it.
Ans maybe I'm not the prettiest.
But I'm not hideous.
And maybe im not a genious.
But neither are they. I'm not what they say.
And I have some self worth. So i'll live today.
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Submitted on May 01, 2011

1:03 min read

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    "I'm not what they say." Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 24 Sep. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/74799/i'm-not-what-they-say.>.

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