*Hehe I can't believe you guys still haven't noticed that I only have 51 poems on here. One is still unpublished because ;p I never posted it.*
My twelve year old bully,
a girl from my swim team,
finally won.
She finally managed to make me cry.
It was early this morning,
about 6:50 or so,
when I thought her words over,
and some of our convos.
No,
she wasn't there to see me cry,
nor did she say all these words at
the same times,
but still,
the pain they bring is
unbearable.
It's pathetic, right?
Letting her words get to me?
I think so too.
But it's hard.
I try to keep them out,
I really do,
but her words sink in like
the Titanic sunk into the North Atlantic Ocean.
Do you ever get upset about something
then think of a scenario where you
confront the person and tell them how you feel?
That happened to me.
I thought of her words from yesterday
as I was walking my dog,
which, to be quite honest,
is a brilliant example of how her words stick,
and began to cry.
A tear rolled down my face,
then another tear followed,
a third, then a fourth,
leaving me to drown in sorrow.
Yesterday,
she made a comment on my hair,
lightly tugging my two braided pigtails
holding my skinny braids.
To that,
in my mind today I imagined telling her
not everyone has a mother to just
take them to a hairdresser or do their hair.
Not everyone has an outlet to get
other family members to do their hair.
My great aunt does it most times,
but she has a life.
If she's busy,
my hair isn't getting done.
In fact,
my hair hasn't been done in
three whole weeks.
The day before,
Monday September 19th,
I wore a t-shirt without sleeves
that was semi see through so I wore
a white t-shirt underneath of it.
Her comment to that was
wow Dragon, I always thought
you were flat, but you're really not.
If you don't know what she meant by that,
it means breasts.
Like flat chested.
Honestly,
I don't really care about that,
the thing that gets to me is how
she always reminds me of how skinny
I apparently am.
Not everyone can be thicker than a
freaking twig,
not everyone can have an hourglass figure,
and not everyone can be tall and have anything
more than bones.
Not even her.
Main reason I hate wearing jeans.
Whenever I wear jeans I feel...
weird.
Skinny.
Uncomfortable.
Subject to all sorts of
hate speech and
derogatory terms.
Another day she said something
about my
drifting eye.
She said she was confused as to
where I was looking and stared,
causing me to feel like an alien.
Like I was different and my distinct
difference made me.. weird.
But the thing is,
I like weird.
In fact,
I love it.
Weird is a lifestyle.
It is a special thing that
only you yourself can possess,
nobody else.
No one else can do your weird
the same way you can.
Only...
I don't like feeling weird
when it comes to my appearance.
Feeling out of place when I enter a room,
as if I don't belong there like all the other girls do.
But why?
Many people fail to see that
skinny people get talked about too.
That skinny people have insecurities too.
That just as one can get offended by being called
fat or saddened because they are bigger than anyone else,
skinny, bony, "figureless" people are just that-
people.
We are all people.
We are all of different sizes and shapes.
Why can't it just be that way?
Why must we be subject to hate speech
if we are,
skinnier than the rest or,
thicker-skinned than others?
Earlier this morning,
when I first started writing this,
I sit in my jeggings,
already dreading the day ahead.
I just know my
twelve year old bully is waiting for me,
waiting to drag me down
into the never ending black hole
that has consumed my soul.
A/N
So on my swim team there is this girl called...let's call her Spinach. Anyway, every time she sees me she smile and say hey, maybe give me a hug or whatever, but as soon as she sees something like I mentioned in the poem, she'll comment on it. I dunno if she realizes it, but what she says sticks with me and seriously hurts my feelings. I really did cry yesterday and the things in here are some of the things she actually said to me. There are more of course because I see her like at least four times a week at practice, but I didn't put them all in. I live with my father, who CANNOT do hair very well, so I can only ask my aunt for help and of course she gets busy sometimes because she has a life too. My stepmother just lets me walk around with my hair coming out of braids or whatever uncaring, but will comment on it and do absolutely NOTHING about it. I don't know many hairdressers or anything to go to, plus, that costs money and bruh I literally was only able to work last year. Money? Ha, what's that? Sure, my mom finally lives near me again, except...she has no car or whatever to come see me. She'd have to ride the bus or something. She can't come into my house for reasons you don't need to know, her house is like an hour away, and on top of that, it's not even her house it's like a house with multiple tenants in it. It's hard for me to see her with my busy schedule and her possible working times that don't coincide with the times I am not busy. So yeah.
Not everyone is as fortunate as others. I'm not poor, but I am definitely not rich. I'm like middle class I guess. Just because people are fortunate in some ways, doesn't mean those people are fortunate in all.
She shouldn't talk about me like that. I mean, she knows what she is saying. Even if you don't think before you speak, common sense can allow you to hear what you are saying.
Does she know it hurts? I dunno. I told her before one time that I was upset that she said something to me (Idk what it was at this point) and she didn't understand why I was upset.
Idiot.
It's pathetic though right? That she gets to me? That I can't take a little bit of opinion from another person, that to younger than I am?
Maybe so.
That doesn't change the pain that I feel though.
Song: (Random song I found on bullying) You had to Pick on Me by Matt Kennon