They laugh.

These physical scars are what I come to see everyday.
And it hurts.
They laugh. They stare. They laugh some more.
I hate them all. Don't they know that people are different.
I hate myself. I HATE MYSELF!

I think about what they would all say if I was gone forever.
Would they cry? Of course not.
They would laugh even harder.
And while they laugh.......

I cry.