A Poem

My name is Kayla.
I'm seventeen years old...
and so much has been going on in my life,
that I just need to talk about it.

I need to talk about the fact that people still stare at me like I'm weird.
Daily I get yelled at and told that I'm stupid, ugly, fat, and things similar to it.
I get thrown under the bus,
forced to listen to the same lectures over and over again,
and I can't say anything about it out loud.

I can't say anything about the fact that I've been bothered,
How I feel like an idiot because I can't drive,
How I feel like a freeloader because I'm not able to get a job at the moment,
And I get stuck listen to my family fight about how we don't have money,
Because we live on a single income.

I can't say anything about how I hate myself again,
Hate the fact that I'm the reason why we're poor,
Because I have to take three medications to function.
Hate the fact that those nagging thoughts have been digging into my brain again,
The thoughts of red staining pale skin,
And the little damned whispers that sit in the back of my mind chanting, "Do it."

I hate the fact that my stepmother hates my relationship,
How I've told her countless times,
That his license won't be valid until October,
But she stills says that he needs to get a job
And that's he's an abusive boyfriend.

I'm so fucking sick,
That I have to take pill after pill,
In order to be able to be the definition of "normal."
Most girls my age,
Worry about smearing their makeup and not getting into their dream college.

Speaking of college,
I'm fucking terrified.
I have two choices; both community centers.
Go to one for free, but farther.
Have to pay for one, bu I can still live at home.

Two sides of a scale,
Tipping back and forth, slowly.
Causing me to be,
An emotional wreck,
Because I can't figure out my future.

Then there's everything going on in the news,
A man killing two journalists on live television.
In my county, just minutes away from my school.
I just want to walk from class to class,
Without worrying about being shot at.

I want to spend time with my father,
But all he does is work.
Then my have my stepmother,
But all she does is give me the same lecture over and over again,
"He needs to get a job." "You need to help yourself."

My mother is out of my life,
But my sister wants to be friends with her.
I stay close with my friends,
But I can't let them know the feelings that I've pent up inside.
There's also one who confessed his undying love to me.

He's been my friend throughout high school,
A small guy with birdy features,
Really shy and really thin,
He wants me to date him and I've told him time after time,
"Jeremy holds the other piece of my heart."

I feel like a bomb,
Ticking away slowly.
But with one outburst,
I'll be sent away to a mental facility,
Because I'll be "too far gone."

But I'm sick of the yelling,
I'm sick of the nasty, slandering words,
I'm sick of being "crazy."
I'm sick of being on the edge of a panic attack everyday

Because of those,
I sit every day in class,
In fear of one approaching me without warning.
Let's watch Kayla as she falls apart.
Let us all make a mockery of her,
Because she's already insane.

Right now,
I want to curl up under the covers and cry.
I want to be normal and stop the meds,
But if I do,
I'll throw myself over the edge.

I want to be the true definition of
Normal.
To be that beautiful girl,
Who grew up in a healthy home,
And has a bright future.

But that was torn from me,
At the tender age of three,
When my mother walked out.
Leaving my father with two kids.
All alone.

I long to go back at those time,
Being three,
Having my mother read to me,
Dad tucking me into bed at night,
And being happy.

But I'm seventeen,
And I'm holding on to the edge by the tips of my fingers.
I'm driving myself crazy,
With all these thoughts,
That I've pent up inside of my head.

And all I can do,
Is sit on a computer and short story,
And this goddamned poem.
Because of the fact,
I hate myself.

And I want to be left alone.
And I want to curl up in a corner.
And I don't want the meds.
And I want to not have to worry about everything.
And I want all of this stress and such,
Before I end up breaking myself into pieces,

To end.