Who game and you’re keeping score You’ve dragged

Who am I?I wish I could tell you but I’m still
figuring that out myselfI’m a Muslim but not a good oneI’ve been standing in the shadows all
my life I don’t belong and I don’t fit inBut who are they to judge me based on
my looks? Or to tell me that I’m not smart
enough? Not pretty enough? Or just not enough?Why can’t I stop listening to them?
Do I have a brain? Can I not just stand up for myself?My hijab is like a hard shell, you
just can’t seem to see past itI’ve been beaten at school before and
not a single teacher knewI’ve had my hijab ripped off my head
and had been hit till I was blue I’ve spat blood beforeI’ve been stomped on beforeAnd I’ve tried to ignoreBut you hit me like it’s a game and
you’re keeping score You’ve dragged the police to my house
with your fake Instagram accounts and your false reports Was it fun making my mom cry?Do you know that you made her want to
die? She lost her dad when she was 10Her and my dad had to leave their
families so they could keep me and my siblings safeWhat do you know about me?Was it fun almost having me sent to a
boarding school across the world?Words are just words, some people may
sayAnd wounds are just wounds, they will
fade awayBut those same words caused me to run
a sharp blade through my own bodyOne long deep cut, maybe that would
be enough Because I am just not tough, I can’t
handle itYou caused me to put permanent scars
on my body5 years later and I still stop and
stare every time I see themWhat do you know about me?You made me push away everyone that I
loveBecause for some reason I thought you
were aboveYou caused my friends to disappear
because of the atmosphereThat you surrounded me withYou caused me to starve myself until
I was hospitalizedYou caused me to drink bleach and try
to kill myself and apologizeIf my parents hadn’t found me and if
the hospital hadn’t flushed meMaybe I would be happier I think about that a lot because I’m
tired of trying to be perfectI’m tired of breathing because it
just seems so pointlessI’m tired of sleeping 18 hours a day
because don’t trust myself to make new friends I’m tired of not wanting to ever
leave my soft, white bedI’m tired of therapy that doesn’t help
and tired of pills that don’t workEvery day just feels like a war as I
get so frustrated with myself And everyone else. You changed me,
and not for the betterI’ve become insecure, weak, and
fragileYou called me emo and laughed in my
faceBut you never tried to put yourself
in my placeIt’s hard when you have to be perfect
in a world where it is impossibleIt’s just not fairAll you talk about is your nice hairThe pain is too much, it hurts, it
rips and tears me apartI feel defeated like there’s just no
point of trying to get by

 I just feel done

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