MikoAmaya

My heart came back today. Again. There were cuts and scrapes all over it But I should be used to this. I have given everything to everyone Even my very own heart. (Hearts are important you know, You can't live without them Why am I so stupid as to trust them with mine?) So why do they treat my kindness like garbage? These people I sacrifice everything for take advantage of my stupidity and abuse it. To be honest, I am DONE. No more giving away that which is so near to me. They told me I was nothing but a dumb dreamer as they threw my heart back at me. I faked a smile everyday So they never knew how much it stung. Please, ju

These scars that never heal are the ones that no one can see Pictures are taken, memories made But they never appear on paper. But when I sleep, in they creep marring my thought and my dreams These scars that never heal can only be seen by me

every tear leaves a scar, not on your face but on your soul. that's why people can keep living in bliss. that's why we can close our eyes to the things we don't want to see. that's why we don't notice the boy crying on the bus. close to breaking. because we don't want to know of his pain. that's why we don't notice the girl struggling to wipe the tears away before she takes seat in her mother's car.        (forcing                      a                            smile             to seem                                  okay...) that's why we close our eyes. It's easier that way. but what if you could actually see the scars

I am an over-thinker. I will sit in my chair and ponder the world And all that occur because I am an over-thinker. I will zone out on music And daydream about series of possible unfortunate events because I am an over-thinker. I analyze everything I read And think things I shouldn't because I am an over-thinker. I lay in bed awake at night seeing horrible things, And they happen to people I care about because I am an over-thinker. I can read a text over and over again And come up with different things everytime because I am an over-thinker. I misunderstand a friend's actions And think them horrid because I am an over-thinker. I have sat

With my eyes closed they make more scars. The tears that brand me, giving me unwanted stares. Don't you know its rude to stare? True, I have more wounds than you, but why must you give me this attention. I never asked for it, yet you force it upon me. Why? Why do you act like I'm a monster, When you all did this to me? Why do you stare? Why do you shy away? Why do you act like I'm a freak? And you! You are the worst. Why do you love me? Why, oh why? How can you love a beast like me?