To those who don’t understand our pain,
To those who point and make fun of our insecurities.
To those who don’t know what we go through every day,
Are the ones who choose to call this a phase.
For if I broke a bone or got a cold,
We would rush to the doctor and do as he told.
And yet now as I have no scars to behold,
You tell me to get over it,
These things are not worth your time in gold.
You tell me to wipe my tears,
To let go of my fears,
For the past is the past and I need to move on.
But how shall I explain to you that,
The past left me so shattered and alone,
That now I struggle to pick up my pieces,
For that was just a phase, my dear
And you need to learn to move on.
So, should I tell myself
I’m not okay but that’s alright.
Smile and show the world who couldn’t care less
That the joy within weeps for the image I portray is lies.
Or should I run around and find a place to hide?
For the people around me haven’t even realised.
You insist on calling this a phase I know,
But please look beyond this and I hope,
You will realise that it’s a cry for help,
And maybe one day not dismiss it as my pains,
And help me overcome this my way.

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