You don't know Me

*I know this is kinda long but it just kept coming and I didn't know where to stop I guess...lol*

Stop being too blind
to see the inside;
and stop to realize
that I don’t live in bliss,
that I cherish every kiss,
that’s something I wouldn’t want to miss
I don’t take advantage of it,
or assume it’s something I can get
just by having a little fit.
but you don’t understand.
you think I own all the land,
and that I dish out commands,
and that I don’t have respect.
you think all I do is collect;
in money and other aspects
of this *great life* of mine.
you think all I do is whine;
and then get all the good times.
but I’m not always happy.
my life’s core is unwrapping.
and lately I feel crappy.
you make me seem like what I am not.
you say you’re jealous that I’m hot.
so the boys decide to give me a shot
and that just leaves you mad
and you say I’m never thankful or glad;
and you accuse me of never being sad.
but you see, every night I cry
and I wish I could just die.
I no longer want to try
to convince you that I don’t have a great life.
I live like you with all the strife.
my wrists have been cut with an identical knife.
but you don’t know how to listen;
you still think that my whole life glistens.
you are only able to see your own mission,
which is to succeed in tearing me down;
to make me be ashamed to show face in town;
to make me think everyone hates me and drown
in the depression consuming my being.
I’m sure you’d like to see me fleeing,
but that’s not what you’ll be seeing.
you’re trying to ruin all of me
by making everyone else see
what I don’t want to be
and how I don’t want to act.
you’re not showing them what I lack.
you’re not showing them all the cracks.
you make me seem better than I am;
much more than a tiny and scared young lamb.
You portray me as some great strong dam.
but I can’t hold the water away,
I don’t have the patience to stay there all days;
and I am not perfect in any way.
you say I try to impress,
but you’re the one making me look my best.
but don’t take that as I’m trying less;
I worked hard for the rep I earned.
and to keep it from being burned.
in fact, the one thing that I’ve learned
is that it’s hard to keep it up
and appear to people as more than a s1ut
and convince them your walk is not a strut.
Yes I had to work for the image I gained
which I have tried hard to keep from being stained
by trying to keep all the wild rumors tamed.
why don’t we start off as friends?
maybe you’ll see that your thoughts can bend
but if not can this be the end?
can all the hateful words just stop?
can we clean it up with a mop,
and find the long gone missing top,
to this image you try to make,
and all the effort you tend to take;
you’re too blind to see my happiness is fake.
what you think just isn’t right.
I’m not superficial or a brat that fights,
I’m just a young girl trying to calm my life…

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