Go ahead

Throw a punch

Push me to the ground

Kick me while I'm down

I can't stop you

I've already tried

But the one thing I can do

Is protect my pride

I won't let you

Stop me from dreaming

I won't allow you

To keep me from believing

So go ahead

Break my heart

All you will get

Is a couple of tears

All you will become

Is a scar

A distant memory

No longer holding any fear

So go ahead

Attack me

Do your worst

Because in the end

You will never change

Who I am

Maybe if I could be pretty

Maybe if I could speak beautifully

Maybe if I was someone else

You would pay attention to me

I'm sorry for what I've done

But do I really deserve to be shun?

I know I'm not her

But how could I be

I'm me

I thought that would be

Enough for you

I guess that's not true

You are not the first

Doubt you will be the last

What's so wrong with me

That makes people leave

It's killing me

And I'm terrified

Very soon

It will be the death of me

Isn't it funny?

That I am just trying to

Get away from myself,

Find some relief from

Myself without losing

Myself and retaining the

Bits that are me

As if I really ever truly

Existed

As this or as that?

Do you find it funny?

Amusing that I can't stand to

Be within my own skin,

Stretched over my bones like

Drying hide over a skeleton,

Isn't it?

You pinned down my wings

Silver needles topped with pearls

Watched me flutter to death.

You preserved everything;

Every color, every texture,

Every bit that was left.

But then it all turned around,

Didn't it? You begged me for life.

You said you could no longer

Preserve the vision of what should be.

You said a carcass shows nothing,

Just a shell of once was.

No memory of the soul,

Of the story that rests in the seams.

I bent all of the pages back

As if I'd never read them again,

Burned every bridge I had and

It was then that I finally

Learned to swim.

It was only then that I finally

Learned to swim.

Welcome to the secret society

The society of writers

Where go all the rejected

The society of hiders 

Welcome to our 3 AM session 

Because we own the night

Welcome to the society of depression

Hope you don't miss your light

Welcome to our inspiration 

Although it won't be easy to find

Welcome to the society of writers

Where no sadness is left behind

I will not become part of a statistic.

I will not become part of a statistic.

I will not become part of a statistic.

I will not become part of a statistic.

I will work to change this statistic.

I will help others not to become this statistic.

I will not become this statistic.

Pain.

A starving child, wasted food.

Pain.

Animal slaughter, deforestation.

Pain.

A poor ghetto, over looked.

Pain.

Heartless people, lives taken.

Pain.

Natural disaster, no aid or comfort.

Pain has many definitions. Many characters and many faces. The death of a loved one. The loss of a lover. The miscarriage of a baby. The depression of a person. The ran over animal. The murdered person. The abused child. The molested person.

And the worst of all.

Not being loved.

Which is the the source of pain. Because with love any of the above can be burdened and shared. Dealt with and stopped.

Love.

In all things, love.

Take this time and comment anything you can do to love and aid the world we live in today. I live in Belgium and as you know from the news it's a hard time for everyone. I'm only 16 and as opinionated as kids my ages are all I here people talk about is revenge and death for theses people. All I can wonder is why? Why would they do this? Why would the military send my family here? Why does all this happen? We're is the love in anything anymore?