"Stop cutting,"
they say.
But they don't realize
it isn't that
easy.
It's not like
it's something
you can instantly
stop.

"She's a psychopath,"
they say when
they see the cuts
on her wrist.
It's not like they know
that her mum is dying
and she'll be left
behind
again.

"She's ugly,"
they say
when they see her
in the hall.
But they don't understand
that she pukes after
every meal
to try to be
pretty like
all the other
girls.

"She's retarded,"
they say.
But they don't understand
that she studies
until four in the morning
trying to fit in,
trying to pass one
measly
class.

They don't understand.

No one understands.