Tag Archives: daily life of the bullied

Kissing Danielle

She keeps to herself

the days linger over

each other in series

of rises and sets

of studies and tests

she is never

really sure if she

is giving her best

and while ‘friends’ gather

near lockers and rooms

she looms

in the background

while she

smiles in the forground

watching

the other pass by

the worn out clothes

slothing shoes

revolving door ways

made for breaking

black and blues

and knows

if they ever

found out

if

ever found

out

She would be

hurrled into a

world of shattering words

shattering bones

shattering this visage

so carefully wrought

thought and messaged

even she wasn’t sure

it wasn’t the truth

it wasn’t the

truth

truth is

every day she sees her

softly walking

talking and meandering

through the blurs of

faces her face is clear

and when she gets near

the

summer sun finds

no shadow

sound finds no

rafters to

beat from

it’s as if the entire

world has fastforwarded

into a slow down

and the camera

is souly devoted

to a downward spiral

until the only image

is her brown eyes

and

then

she

sees

……. for a heart beat

crap! did everyone see?

did everyone know?

they say it gets better

but she is no so sure

because all she wants

to do is scream

I AM NOT WHO I

PRETEND TO BE!

No

she wants

to linger in the follow

of her hearts content

play with a force

of first loves commitment

stand on the precipice of

prom in two dresses

hold hands in the court

of dramaless masses

and be free from

this resereved

stagnated and barely controled

lung forward and speak out

compel

and just not be

afraid

of kissing Danielle

but

if they knew

if they

knew

like brown eyes

did

everything would

be over.

so she

keeps to herself

the days linger over

each other in series

of rises and sets

of studies and tests

she is never

really sure if she

is giving her best

and while ‘friends’ gather

near lockers and rooms

she looms

in the background

while she

smiles in the forground

watching

the other pass by

watching

the other

pass

by.

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The Life of Bea

She walks with shuffle

cuffle and flop

in worn out shoes

and worn out tops

her hands are small

pale porcelin envy

eyes of dew drop gray

dream of anything

but life today

She lingers in the back

most hours

clinging to shade

and inconsequential hue

praying to gods

spit, spite, and throttle

forget she exists

as she dreams of anything

but this

Her hair is neat

her glasses new

ish, through which the

world is viewed

in shades of black

purple and blue

her ears are revolving doors

of not good enough

four eyes and hell-bound troll

stupid fucker and

filthy mole who should

NEVER have been born

but

…. there are days

when hands reach out

when voices confront

shove, bite, and anguish

and words of

it will be ok, you are loved

come out to play

be with me and

you ARE beautiful…

when you smile,

whisper on her behalf.

In those moments

she is alive

and reminded

hope exists somedays

though most days

she dreams life is

not today

this is the life of Bea.

this is the life of bea

this is the life of

…..