For The People In Hard Spots

freak, monster,

those words may sound familiar because that’s what people might call you

but they say this because they’re to blinded by your skin to see the beauty inside.

people will try to help and say that you can get through this

but they don’t understand what you’re going through

they don’t know that its not that easy, they don’t know that in the shadows of your life you get bruised by the hands that fed you as a child

that the paper cuts of insults get filed with lemon juice when a loved one calls you one of those names

They don’t understand because they have a loving mother and father who’d sacrifice anything for them, they can never understand.

You tell people the lie of what you wish your life was like but you hide the truth in a safe in the shadows of your mind with the code burned to ashes and the key melted into a lie

that everything is fine, that I’m loved by my parents, that I’m not ugly

because when you get home you know this safe will fall open on it’s busted hinges because no matter how hard you try to fix it, it always ends up broken

not because of the new locks you used but that the 3 headed monster of the truth will bust out and remind you that you are not loved, that the world would be better off without you, that he would sell you for a can of beer because that’s all he loves, that you’re a disappointment.

Well you need to know right now and forever that he’s wrong.

that the monster of the truth has been contorted into a lie to be something it’s not

it’s contorted by that man who is supposed to take care of you and by those who call you names

because he wants you to be afraid and he has this monster on a leash and beats it whenever it doesn’t do what he wants it to do.

you need to know that the monster of the truth is actually a loving dog

because the truth is, there’s people around you that care, and even though it seemed like you were fighting a losing war you still fought hard even though you were riddled with bullet holes

because you’re fighting not only for yourself or for others but for the belief that

“they’re wrong”

because even though what everyone said

despite having lived through the millions of bullets

despite doing the impossible

you’re still here

because you’re beautiful.

Maybe you’re the broken egg in the carton that people throw away

maybe you’ve never had a best friend because people were scared that if they were seen with you they’d get riddled with bullets

or maybe you’re the lottery winner of what people define as ugly

well if people define you as ugly they need to look a little closer

they need to stare not at the shapes and colors that make you up but at the definition and meaning of the masterpiece that you are

because people don’t seem to realize that the gun of their mouth and the bullets of their words leave holes in you, and don’t you dare say

“it’s just some words” and “they’ll get over it”

because just like a snake they inject you with more venom which gets a little closer to your heart

You tattoo the word dog, or medusa onto your face because after a while of being called names you start to label yourself as one

and that tattoo can’t come off because no matter how hard you rub it with bleach it can’t come off

because you’re not a dish

you’re not some computer that can be reset

you’re a piece of art.

Of course words hurt

the insults stick around longer than the compliments

and even though you may not remember this in the future

I want you to know

you’re beautiful.