Drawing has become unbearable, and writing felt like an obligation now than an inspiration. I have no academic talent nor is interested to sport, I am insecure of my face and the way I walk and talk. Even if I try, I know I'd fail just like the last.
All I am to everyone is a show. An entertainment, something to use only when you have noone but yourself, and when you can't bear to be alone, you find me. That is what I am to you, to anyone, a temporary solution of not being alone.
No amount of riches can erase the phantom of many have done touched me, nor it can change the fact that you've abused me, ending up abusing myself for something I didn't caused. And the best part for you? I never got to end anything nor made a choice for myself.
I only feel nothing but a pest in this life. A lazy, rude, and an unforgivable child. No amounts of prayers can make you forgive me, you even have denormalized my kneeling. I knelt not for you, but to him, yet you made sure noone have saw you. And I was left to take care of it.
Maggots may crawl on me, crawl on my hair, crawl inside my mouth, but they won't know how it felt living inside this body where I have to fight for my own rights just to feel human. No, I don't feel like they have ever treated me like I was anything human.
It was never easy to leave, but I was in the verge of death to think. And to think of how the cold winde brushed through me, it never felt the same. I don't want anything to be the same, as much as I don't want anything to change. But I did, and even if I regret, it happened.
I thought, if I accepted, I'd be too. Only to find out I've been used and lied to. No amount of apology or recognition of conciliation can change the past I've been carrying on, that even now it's still happening to me. And when I am desperate to leave, everyone pulls me back.
I wanted them to see that I can lead without leaving when it becomes overwhelming. I wanted to prove to them that they are nothing without me. And then it came true, only when they have finally drained the life out of me.
Even leading have been draining me. My partner have been thinking of leaving, telling me that I should too. But how could I when this is something I have built just to change the life I had before, no, not that I want to leave. Not when this is all I have after everything.
There's no argument at all if it were to compare my academic and my sports. I have ran far off my path, I have left the honor roll and quitted my sports, just because of what? That I wanted to see if anyone would notice or ask why I left. Noone, not even my classmates asked why.
Being easy to be pushed around, thrown, and made fun of, I never understood what you find funny in me. Was it because the way I can't express myself, or the way I hide myself, or was it because of how you thought the only way I was possibly accepted when I was vulnerable ?
If starvation was the only resolution to feel something, that action only gives the feeling of how the insides churn and clench, desperately tightening itself, eating whatever's left of my body, making me curl and throw up nothing but the despair I have been carrying.