Bio-Rama

Bio-Rama
-Thanks to Lizzy for creating the Bio-Rama page and letting me post my own OC Jodi Harte :) Click on the image to visit Bio-Rama!

Thursday, 31 March 2011

How Am I Feeling?

She wonders what it's like to dream,
To not fear the nightmares.
.
She goes home and she prays,
She's not sure what she's hoping for anymore.
.
She get's pushed.
Sometimes it's into lockers
Sometimes it's to the ground
Either way each time she's knocked down.
.
There are days where she wants to scream
Others she wants to cry
.
She wonders if they miss her.
She hopes they don't.
.
She pieces her heart together,
But what she needs,
is to stop it falling appart.
.
She used to write all the time,
Now she doesn't know what to say.
.
She tells people about her dream.
They tell her it will never come true.
.
One day she snaps.
She tells he bully that at least she has ambition.
At least she's something- even if it's a loser,
He tells her she's not good enough.
He tells her she'll never get a boyfriend.
He tells her she'll die alone.
She tells him he's just ignorant,
But she knows he's only telling her the truth.
.
Her friends hardly see her anymore.
They don't question it.
.
Teachers tell her to lower her expectations,
That not every sotry is a happy ending.
She refuses.
.
She breaks down crying when she's finally alone.
She smiles when people are around,
and crumbles apart inside.
.
She wonders if she'll stop avoiding her reflection in the mirror.
She knows the answer is no.
.
Her Mother tells her she's beautiful.
Her Father tells her she's perfect.
She doesn't want to be perfect.
She doesn't want people to convince her.
She doesn't want people to lie anymore.
.
She thinks again:
"What if thy miss me?"
She knows they do.
She wish they wouldn't.
.
She tries her hardest in English,
But the boy who sits behind her is better.
The girl who throws pencils at her is more beautiful.
The person she sits next to dates the guy she likes.
.
It's all about labels.
But she doesn't have a slot to fit into.
.
She sits at home in front of the computer,
The power to write,
But not the ability to explain how she feels.
.
She reads their messages and she hides in her room as she does so.
Sometimes she smiles.
Sometimes she cries.
She tries to write back, but everything is fake.
Fake happiness.
.
She's getting good at lying.
Her voice doesn't get higher when she says
"I'm Fine."
.
No one catches her out.
But they don't leave her alone either.
.
The whispers hurt more that the shoves.
She hears them talk.
She doesn't know what to say.
.
She turns to music,
She pours her heart into the lyrics.
She wishes she could sing.
.
Tear sting her eyes when people trip her up.
No one cares.
.
She goes home and plugs in her headphones.
She think about them again.
She wonders what they think of her.
She wonders if she has the strenght to post.
.
She writes a happy post when she finishes her work early in ICT.
Someone looks over her shoulder,
They tell her she should stop wasting her life online.
.
She tells her teacher about her fanfiction.
She shows her teacher some of her work.
"It's a good effort... but how will Jodi Harte help your future?"
.
She turns to music.
She cries to her playlists.
.
Maybe they're thinking of her right now.
Maybe they hate her for leaving them for so long.
Maybe they want to help.
.
She doesn't know what to say.
.
She doesn't know how she feels anymore.
There aren't words.
.
She's learned to lie so well,
She can convince herself that she's telling the truth.
.
She wonders what it's like to dream,
To believe that they'll come true.