Oh How Cliché

It hurts, all the time. The constant feeling of pain stabbing my chest. If people knew how i felt, if he knew what i was feeling... well they'd all bleed to death now wouldn't they?And pretty soon my chest may explode and drown everyone in pain and confusion.

I've sacrificed everything to make him happy. He doesn't notice though and he doesn't care. Considering it's always about him, him, HIM! God dammit! If I just had my turn to say...well i guess i'd explode because i'm already overloaded with pain. I've given up everything for him. I've even denied my sexuality just so he's happy and that hurts me! Everytime, that stabbing pain in my chest and gets worse. To the point where I have no choice but to cry... never infront of him, no never. I couldn't risk taking his attention away from himself, cause that's just selfish.

I'm a ghost, socially and mentally. When he's there, i'm just a toy that hangs from his hand as he walks. And when he's not with me, I'm dead. Because the pain is soo strong that i can't breathe. I'm ugly, he's only with me cause he looks good next to the piece of shit that I am. I am silence. I am nothing. I am the fine print on the back of a packet of gum, that no-one, absolutly no-one cares to read.

It's always been this way. I'm the ugly child of the family. The black sheep. The child who can be poisoned and nobody would bother to help. I'm a waste, pointless basically. God I try soo hard not to cry when these situations occur. I should cut my face off..and my arms and my legs. I should rip the bile from my stomach and force it down my throat. The foul taste is exactly who I am.

But i'm tough, which may seem ironic. But I figured, if i can stay silent for this long and live with this stabbing pain in my chest which gets worse and worse, than i'm tough. Tougher than any wrestler or rich man. I'm the toughest. Throughout my life I have realized that it's better to shut your mouth than say how you feel. Though I long for someone to know and to care.