Then Smile

Metaphors.

Arent.

Metaphors.

They're real things -
Just.

Meant for more.

Like, for example.
Your were once flying into the sky.
And when you tell your parents.
They feel blinded from the shining of lies.

Being called names because of your imagination.
How can you hate creativity like a mad-man, that causes agitation.
Pausing silence because of your existence drives me crazy.
Maybe bullies pitting against me was a good thing...

Let me explain with more elaboration.

Lets start with pain.
Happy ending's just arent good enough for my story.
To me.
Butterflies were like Bats.

Fluttering around like they owned the place...

So I would chase them, pull off their wings and watch them suffer.
Shut out all feelings but feel sorry for what I've just done...
Then crush it with my palm so I can say I finished the job.

Then smile.

Even though I hated life.
Made 3 teachers quit, cry and made to resign.

No one can say they visited my mind.
Without being stripped from their sizzling eyes.

Because whats inside.
Isnt meant for the visible eye.

One hundred percent of me isnt stressed.
Ive suffered too drastically to be weak from words you hack me with.

What you attack me with isnt a weapon when no damage is done.

Its just some person too weak to touch me.

Next time cut me with something that banishes love...