I can smell the fear. I can feel the pain. Put down the gun. Stop your words. Let our fist do the talking til one feels the pain, the agony, the hurt, you have caused me. I will never stop, until I die.
“
I am a man of few words but with a heart of gold. I will show you love beyond any words can only if you will let me become close I will share my few words of love to you.
“
Why would someone say these things? Because I’m not like you? I’m not average? I don’t have enough curves for you? You probably think your snide comments and remarks wouldn’t leave any kind of imprint on me. But they have. I’ve hurt myself. Because of you. Because you think it’s funny to insult someone who isn’t as good as you, isn’t as pretty as you. I’m unhealthy? I should eat more? Your state of mind is unhealthy. You should love more. You’re all hurtful, you all have ugly hearts and dirty mouths. But do you see that little butterfly I have there? It’s there so I can’t make any more scars, so I can’t hurt myself because the people around me think I’m too skinny. A few of my scars have faded, but many of them are still there. “How stubborn are those scars when they won’t fade away? Or just a gentle reminder that now are better days?” Think the next time you say something. It may scar them for life.
Just give me the gun. I’ll end it here and now, just so I wont have to have another tear from you and make you frown from me again.
“
