The Whispers

My heart bleeds.
I’m trapped up against a corner.
I have no where to turn.
Everyone’s against me.
They all say the same thing.
I am reget.
They keep whispering it over and over.
I try to prove them wrong.
But kept falling face first in another termoil of confusion.
They scream in my head night and day.
I long to cry out, or show some kind of feeling.
I keep it all in.
To them it would just be another weakiness.
So I put on the face that pleases them.
While I die inside.

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