Beneath the Skin
Emily Seth
Outside,
The shy one.
The outcast.
The nerd.
The smart one,
Who always overdoes
The projects,
The worksheets.
The partner to have for a guaranteed A.
Inside,
The kind one.
The sweet one.
The one with the open heart,
That has been pried apart
One too many times,
With cold hands.
The cold, cold hands
Of manipulation.
The bullies
The taunts.
The names they shouted
As they ran away,
The warm tears,
Streaking down their face.
The pain,
The hurt,
The wounds that never show.
The shattered parts of broken hearts.
But
They don't realize
Just how big
The problem is.
They don't see
The pieces,
The fights that are fought beneath
The skin.
Because they listen to
The rhyme.
The sticks,
The stones.
The broken bones,
But you can't see those either.
The signs,
The pain,
It's all the same
If you just look
A little closer.
The eyes
The face
The way they speak
They're different now
The pressure
The teasing
It changed them.
Igneous to metamorphic,
Whole to shattered,
A victim of
The cruelty.
The hate.
The bitter thoughts of the world.
Of course,
The broken bones...
They hurt too.
But broken bones are better than
The weight,
The depression,
The feeling that you are worthless.
The crushing feeling
Like all your body is being pulverized into
The ground.
After all,
While not all hurt is beneath
The skin,
That's where it hurts
The most.
The shy one.
The outcast.
The nerd.
The smart one,
Who always overdoes
The projects,
The worksheets.
The partner to have for a guaranteed A.
Inside,
The kind one.
The sweet one.
The one with the open heart,
That has been pried apart
One too many times,
With cold hands.
The cold, cold hands
Of manipulation.
The bullies
The taunts.
The names they shouted
As they ran away,
The warm tears,
Streaking down their face.
The pain,
The hurt,
The wounds that never show.
The shattered parts of broken hearts.
But
They don't realize
Just how big
The problem is.
They don't see
The pieces,
The fights that are fought beneath
The skin.
Because they listen to
The rhyme.
The sticks,
The stones.
The broken bones,
But you can't see those either.
The signs,
The pain,
It's all the same
If you just look
A little closer.
The eyes
The face
The way they speak
They're different now
The pressure
The teasing
It changed them.
Igneous to metamorphic,
Whole to shattered,
A victim of
The cruelty.
The hate.
The bitter thoughts of the world.
Of course,
The broken bones...
They hurt too.
But broken bones are better than
The weight,
The depression,
The feeling that you are worthless.
The crushing feeling
Like all your body is being pulverized into
The ground.
After all,
While not all hurt is beneath
The skin,
That's where it hurts
The most.