47

50 0 0

I am not the person you see
as I am living here behind my mask.
You have taught me
that be who I am isn't safe.
You taught me this with your words,
with the way you've shunned me.
You taught me this when you laughed
and made fun of me for being different.
The teacher lied to me,
when she said that words could never hurt me.
Sticks and stones break my bones
and the words cut something deeper.
When you told me, I wasn't good enough, I believed you.
When you told me, I was lazy, I believed you.
These words you gave me,
became part of who I am.
What is said, is done.
You can never take them back.
And now I live here, behind my mask.