I write...

I write to vent
I write to express myself
I write to connect with others in my same situation
I write because I'm afraid of what I'll do if I don't
Instead of actually doing something
I write it down and that is enough
For now
Sometimes it's not enough and I have scars to show for it
I try to keep myself in check
I try to behave
I try to get people to like me
But sometimes it's just not enough
The funny thing
Is most people don't know why they dislike me
They just do
It feels like I'm fighting fate
There is a silly thing
Fate
It's just an excuse for people's miserable failures
Of course, I'm an emo for thinking that
I'm not though
I don't do it to be cool
I do it for that redeeming burst of endorphins
No one knows but me and my closest friends
I'm a cutter
Not an emo
Emo is a style, a fashion, a type of music
Cutters are people who have actual problems
Who are addicted to cutting and ashamed of it
Who try and pretend to be happy
So no one will know what they do
Cutters cut to cope
I know everyone has problems
I know a lot have it worse than me
But I have it a lot worse than other people
So I'm sorry if I bitch
When people complain about petty troubles
I hate hearing about people's problems that they cause
People are calling you a slut,
Maybe you shouldn't sleep with a different guy every week
And then tell everyone, including me to my face, about what you did
I really don't give a fuck
If you don't want to be called a slut, stop being a slut
I had no control over my problems
I didn't cause them
I couldn't prevent them
I wasn't even involved
But I still have to bear the consequences
Who decided that I deserved to be thrown into this world
I was so very very little
And the world is oh so very big
What did it care about me
A little ant in comparison
If I happened to be crushed under its foot
It wouldn't even know
Why did my momma bird push me from the nest
Before I even had my feathers
How could she expect me to fly
Why was she so surprised when I plummeted to earth
I'm just sitting there broken and twitching
Waiting for a cat to come finish me off
And as I'm dying
I can hear my momma bird above me
Saying it's my fault
I should have been able to do it
Even if it wasn't even physically possible
I'm still at fault
It's not like I jumped from the nest
So why do I have to take all the blame
Whatever I'm just ranting now
I think I'll wrap this up before it gets old
But I'm afraid this has turned into just another stupid poem
That will sound like every other stupid poem
Sorry for making you read this <3