I

I scream my hate to the world,
only it's to deaf ears.

I have a shoulder to cry on,
my own.

I carve my pain onto my body,
so that people will see it.

I smile when someone tells a joke,
but it's fake.

I tell people about my problems,
yet no one seems to listen.

I have emotions,
but they're unimportant.

Just like everyone else,
that can see what I see.