This is not... umm, a balanced poem; I was just... trying to... vent, I guess.... There's no set... anything, really.... Hence why I called it The Poem of a Mess.

I am a mess,

and I'm scared,

and I just don't know what to do.

I don't wanna be a target again;

I don't want to paint that cruel picture again,

but I just don't know how to act.

Some of my memories are but a lie,

So how do I know if any of them are true?

I just don't know how to handle this.

I'm a mess;

I'm a mess,

And can anyone fix me on this cruel Earth?

Better yet: would anyone care?

The first I remember was in fourth grade.

I'm now entering college,

But it's been all the same,

and nothing has changed.

I am so confused.

I have trust issues.

I don't understand;

I don't comprehend.

I don't know why,

But what does that matter when I don't even know what??!

I know I am in pain,

But was it intentional?

My kind, childish heart has always said "no,"

But this Earth was not made for angels.

They tease.

And it's vague to me.

I hardly believe it's enough to report.

But this has been going on for years.

I am in such pain,

From these years of torture.

They have ripped my mind apart....

My soul is now darkened with blood.

My own blood.

They've always said,

"Oh, it'll get better."

"It'll be different."

"It'll change."

Next year, next year, next year...

WHEN WILL IT EVER CHANGE?!!

My blood pools, and pools.

Deep inside my soul.

I have lost belief in a future

With kind people and without this weight.

And yet I still cling desperately...

To the tiny shred of what I used to have.

I have acted strong for far too long.

I cannot take anymore.

It's been so long;

It's clear to me now.

That defensive wall I put up,

This suspicion.

Being bullied is now a part of me....

I have a cancer on my soul....

I am a mess;

I am a mess.

Nothing that I say

Makes any sense.

My head had been tortured,

Ripped apart and jumbled back together.

Mashed again and again.

I can't tell anything apart anymore,

nor can I survive.

Survive.

They speak of sex,

Of drugs and overdose,

Of rape and abuse.

We're taught from a young age to deflect such things.

Why are we not taught, just as harshly, of bullying?

You shouldn't have sex until you're married.

You shouldn't do drugs.

You shouldn't rape or abuse someone.

Report it;

Prevent it;

STOP IT.

But why is bullying not on that list?

When bullying lasts so many years,

Or is so vicious,

Or is so confusing,

Is it not also damaging to the mind?

I understand that it's not as "traumatic."

But it is every bit as painful.

And I hardly ever hear of active bullying prevention.

We learn about the consequences of sex.

People come to speak on drugs.

Rape is taught as inexcusable.

But bullying should also be on that list....

Bullying also needs to be stopped....

Why are we not taught from a young age that bullying is WRONG?

That bullying is not FUNNY?

THAT IT IS NOT COOL OR GREAT?

They tell me I'm great.

I'll rise above them all in the future.

Is that why they've crushed me so hard,

That I no longer see the Sun?

What future?

I'll always be as pathetic as I always am.

I'll always be trying to dig myself out of the hole that they finally pushed me into so long ago.

They continue to throw dirt on me,

To cover me in the Earth,

To erase me.

I will always be fighting,

Fighting, fighting, fighting,

Against this pain,

Against their words.

I'm sick of fighting.

I'm sick of trying.

I'm sick of surviving.

I'm sick to the point of dying.