All the Things That I Can’t Say Out Loud

I hope I find enough courage someday
To tell the world or at least the people that care about me
That;
I love the darkness but I fear daylight the most,
Not like others, I hate sunsets just as much as I hate goodbyes,
I hate loud noises but the noise in my head is louder than any traffic jam.
I am no ordinary.
These rubber band scars round my wrists,
My blurry childhood,
And the crumpled up pieces of paper on my bedroom floor around 3am,
Are what makes me “not-so-ordinary”
And by that I don’t mean I’m extraordinary either.
I don’t listen to love songs and fantasise about love
like some other girls of my age.
I’m afraid of “love”,
Even hearing that word makes me shiver.
I’m afraid of people, but I don’t hate them, I swear.
I swear I’m human too.
Just a bit different.
Just a bit too damaged for my age.
Perhaps my battle scars might justify what I’m saying
better than this poem.
They hurt but they are all I’m left with.
At least they stay longer than some people, to remind me that I’m alive.
I’m sorry,
I’m not what you expect me to be.
I’m everything but a living Greek tragedy
written in Shakespearian rage.