By: Cynthia P. H.
Look behind, beneath the sweater
You’ll be able to see I couldn’t hold it together
Skin scarred for life
Lookin at the souls through that reflective tool
Seems as though pain’s pushed away this numbed feeling
No more tears, no more pain, yet I’m still grieving?
Let the true colors be seen through the eyes of this innocent girl
Give her the love, the strength, the wonder that’s for real
Look at my arms and you’ll wonder what had gone wrong
You’d figure out I’m weak; I’m not strong
You’ll forget my bubbly outside personality
You’ll figure out that I had been living in my own reality
All these problems I ponder over in my head…
Then you think about the stupid things that you had said
You contemplate and wonder whether you took part
In the breaking and tearing of my worn out heart
You listen to these words tryna find some sort of answer
Giving sympathy, “Kid I ain’t got cancer”
I don’t need your pity, got enough for a lifetime
Sick and tired of being lied to time after time
Look behind, beneath my sweater
Tell me if it seems as though I could hold it together
You think I’m faking this pain, think I’m lying
Look into my eyes; does it look like I’m trying?
I’ve been holding my pain in the inside; hiding my past
You think I’m no better than some freak; You think I wont last
I’m opening my heart for you to see my own reality
I’m daring you to look and read about my brutality
You can see my mind, my heart, my whole life, like being sober
Feel my soul, every minute getting colder and colder
Come into my shoes; look at all I’ve seen
Broken hearts, stained tools, scars, and shattered dreams
Look into my soul; Look into the hole in my heart
I’ve waited it to fill up since the very start
I’m sick and tired of feeling lousy; Listening to all of their garbage
Saying, “Oh I love you, I care for you,” Man , get a grip
First you tell me off, then you tell me you care?
Tryna make your own self look good, foo you swear!
You don’t know why I did this. you don’t know my life
Look behind, beneath the sweater
You’ll be able to see I couldn’t hold it together
But now I’ve got some help, from my Silly Little Horse and my Twinky<3
We tell each other problems, share secrets, swears with the pinky
Even got a therapist, named Mr. Garfield Roosevelt Bright
Heck of a name, but he helps me find and do what is right
I also got Mrs. Zepeda, my second mom, my seventh grade teacher
I’m glad I had the honor of having to meet her
I’ve got my faith with me and now I’ve been better
Now, not as often do I have to worry what’s under the sweater
I used to injure myself, tryna get rid of the pain
I guess it just brought more problems, brought more to my strain
Living life as a freak wasn’t the role I would’ve chosen
But then again, we don’t always have a choice in what we are put in
I thank God for giving me the strength to get through what I had
Thank Him for giving me friends who make me laugh with words like “smad”
Look behind, beneath the sweater
I may not have been able to hold it together
But I have to live with it and make it all the more better
I don’t have to worry about what’s behind, beneath my sweater…
I would like to say this poem is a great poem! I really could relate to it!
Great Job! It must have helped in some way…
this is really good. i can relate to it too! so you stopped! thats wonderful! your very lucky girl…lucky you could quit
Thank you so much. I’m glad that you could relate to it. It did help in some ways.
how did you do it? ive tried SOOO many times. i always fail… ='(
wow so amazing! u are fantastic!
It is hard, and I’m not going to lie, this poem was written a couple of months ago. I stopped for months! But recently, I did it again. This time, though, I am trying to actually get help. I even told my mom that I had done it again.
One thing that helped me stop before was friends. Finding people who truly care and who actually want to help you. The thing is, is i told my friends about it. I don’t know if you have or not, but I think it is better to tell them because if they really care about you they will try to help. In my case, it took a long time to find friends who actually reminded me constantly that I could talk to them instead of doing it & it really did work. I know it is extremely hard to stop, & a lot of people who don’t SI won’t understand that it is not easy, but I do. I know it is hard. But I also know that it is possible.
i dont see howyou can tell someone…i cant. but its awesome that you can. it doesnt seem possible anymore