Thinking back
why did I hurt so bad?
Blonde hair shimmering
a heart warming smile
patience of a saint
and the quickest wit

Talented
beautiful
friendly
fun

Painfully shy
unclear complexion
aneorexically thin
unattractive to the opposite sex

Oh yeah...
that

Self-doubt
self-hatred
instilled in me
by anyone
and everyone
who ever called me "skinny"
Guys who wouldn't even give me a FIRST look
(let alone a second)
A "Boy" using me for my good reputation
(while he fucked another girl in the woods)
Sexually harassed at thirteen
Made fun of at twelve
Cruel jokes
Betrayal from supposed friends
Much back-stabbing
Competition for things
that were completely irrelevant
things that were mine
(or should have been)
mine alone
then gone
Why?
Because I was a "good girl"
and didn't put out

Junior year of high school
Everyday was a battle for my life
Coming home and sobbing
(while no one else was looking)
debating whether I would live or die today
Sadly only being kept alive by fear
and words
fear
and words
fear
and words
fear
and words
Anonymous words printed
(under anonymous name)
whisperingwords

I became
a poetic goddess
in my misery
Words poured from me
from my mind
words I never knew that I had learned
but there they were
connecting to make my feelings make sense
and others understood me
congratulated me
(for being depressed?)
Good can come out of wanting to die
because you see nothing worth living for?
Therapy, shmerapy

For free
I became something
someone
somebody that mattered
(though nothing is ever for free)

My angry hatred filled muse is gone now
replaced by a content soul
one that loves words
but does not need them to fill silence

My muse loves herself
and has found life worth living

She might not have the best words to say things
but some things
are better left
unsaid

04/15/2003

Author's Note: Please forgive the usage of a swear word... Seldomly do I use them in a poem, unless I feel necessary. This particular poem was created after a class in which we discussed "Essence of Self." Not until today have I given much thought to the feelings I felt during those oh-so-lovely "best years of my life." Looking back, I think perhaps I should have sought professional help. Thankfully, even though I didn't, I am still alive today, and able to tell the story. :)

Posted on 04/15/2003
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