I was that girl.
I was the girl that always angry.
My bitterness toward life started young,
Always expressing myself physically,
Numerous referrals sent home from school
Because I just could not control myself.
I was the bully on the playground.
I was the girl that had to change on her own,
That had to make things right without help.
I apologized and made amends for my actions.
People liked and respected me more for that.
I was the quiet girl in the new schools,
Afraid to show my true colors for fear
That people would judge me.
I was the girl Karma came back to hit.
Bullying started in middle school with rumors and gossip.
"Did you hear that she's dating John?" and "I heard she slept with Mike."
They laughed while I wept, never understanding how much it hurt.
I am that girl.
I am the girl that makes minimum wage,
Who eats quickly while people stare at her.
They see a fat girl, but I see a girl who doesn't eat
Because she's working too hard.
I am the girl that bottles her emotions.
Anger, sadness, frustration, depression
All get locked away until the box explodes
In a fit of screaming, crying, and emotional violence.
I am the girl that wants to be loved,
But never gets the appreciation she desires.
Instead, abused and used to fill others' needs.
I am the girl who sits all by herself and wonders why
Everybody treats her wrong and hurts her.
I am the girl who will do anything
To be loved and respected.
I am the girl who just wants to be understood.