Miss....? - Poem by Pissed Off
Some say I’m a perfect ten.
I’m going to be prom queen.
That I’m Miss popular.
I rule the school.
No one is higher than me.
On the outside I’m smiling.
But do you know that on the inside I’m dying.
Everyday I go back to that place called home.
Going home to this isn’t right.
I listen to them.
As they yell, scream, curse.
He has had one to many.
And she doesn’t know what to do.
Words fly out their mouths.
He has gone to another woman.
To her he is the reason why my family is so bad now.
But he hasn’t been sober in years.
Why am I and mom and Tim not good enough?
I try to cover my brothers ears.
He is too young for this.
He can’t be like me.
For when I was only 7, she leaned on me.
She took it out on me.
But just one thing you should know.
She has made my life miserable.
Can’t they just be done.
So there is no more of this horrible fighting.
The shouts get louder.
And threats more harsh.
I push head phones on his head till he is fast asleep.
Knowing that this placed called home is a living hell.
As push open the door.
And crawl into my closet.
With pillows over my ears.
And my music turned up.
No one can hear me scream.
No one hears my tears.
For no one knows the pain I hold in.
This knife that stabs me everyday.
Cutting harder and harder.
Till I think I might die and give in.
I’m not Miss popular.
I’m not Miss everything.
I’m Miss trying to get past this.
I can’t take crying till my stomach hurts so much I puke.
Where I try to hide this pain from my little brother.
When really I hide this pain from the world.
Locking it inside making it hurt even more.
This pain and hurt is unreal.
But I will not confess for I will lock this inside forever.
So I want to runaway from here.
This place called home.
Go somewhere far away.
Where the memories that this place has given are all erased.
That you don't have to deal
With the past of hurt and pain.
So I will stay here for him and only him.
Don’t call me perfect.
Don’t say my life is great and you want it.
Because you don’t know the half of it.
It’s killing me.
But to be strong I will.
I go to school each day.
Knowing that I have to tell a lie to survive.
Nothing is true anymore.
There’s nothing to be proud of.
I don’t have anything perfect.
To say with honesty in my voice.
I’m dying on the inside.
Never to be happy or perfect.
Because of this family problem that I carry forever.
That this will not leave my memory.
It will stay.
So don’t wish for my life.
Because I wish for yours every night.
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