i hope that one day i'll be able to say that i'm finally over you and the heartache that you caused and continue to make me feel

you treated me like ****, even in my moments of weakness and the fact that it took such a toll on me that it made me want to change myself for some ******* like you makes me feel nothing but disappointment in myself

because fact of the matter is, you have never and will never deserve someone like me

and i can only hope that you get what you deserve.

the feeling of emptiness fills my chest
watching it play out on my screen

the sound of laughter echoes
and all i want to do is scream

a simple, "hey, wanna hang?" would've sufficed
but recording the fun we have seems pretty nice

"we were thinking of you the whole time"
you uttered when confronted

such *******
the chills ran up my spine

i hate this feeling
i want it to go away

maybe i just have to start leaving
the ones who hurt me today

the truth is
i'm terrified. absolutely petrified. people think i'm ******* depression personified.
the truth is
i'm just as hurt as you, if not more. you shouldn't have lured me here. i'm sad and don't know what to do.
the truth is,
all i want is you to hug me and whisper in my ear "it's all going to be okay." and for it to be true someday.

when you were crying over him cheating on you with lily, you should’ve called me.

when he would slap you silly, you should’ve called me.

when you thought about taking your life because of him, you should’ve called me.

you shouldn’t have let him win. you should’ve called me.

but i wasn’t there...

when you see me, a girl with tan skin but her parents are black and white, what do you think?

do you instantly assume that my dad wasn't there? if you do, you'd be correct. do you think about whether or not i've witnessed violence? in and outside of the home? if you do, you'd be correct. do you think that i had to help with the bills because my single mother couldn't scavenge enough money to pay them by herself and no one would help her? if you do, you'd be correct.

truth is, i've never even considered being the definition of a stereotype. ever. people have always called me a "half-breed", a "*******", and infamously a "******" even though the hard r wasn't always pronounced. i've never been offended by their words though, my mom has taught me to have tougher skin than that.

i've always been a stereotype, though. i guess in some people's eyes that's all i am. a young girl living up to her background.

but the thing is, i know that i'm worth more than their insults, assumptions, thoughts, and doubts. i'm going to be more than a stereotype one day. mark my words.

i'm sorry that i couldn't save you, save myself.
i'm sorry that i'm imperfect.
i'm sorry that i'm negative.
i'm sorry that i'm not you.
i'm sorry that i'm me.

it takes seventeen muscles to smile.
it takes forty three muscles to frown.
if it takes more muscles to frown then it does to smile,
then why does it take so much more effort to smile when you're sad?
or to smile in general?