Im consumed by the judgment of others:
friends, family, people ...
why do people torment me with words and actions?
why am i called fake, , hoe, ugly, hated and many others.
people mocking me with the present ,
no idea of my past.
i struggle with death,
because its my answer for all this to stop.
all my life i was put under,
abused, neglected, raped, hurt, lonely, bullied, hated!,
yet people wonder why i have a mask.
because behind that,
that mask,
lies a broken crying little girl.
left behind in the dark,
so long that now she doesn't see light.
no one can walk in my shoes,
you'll be gone by the first foot,
and dead before the first step.
