They are the ones who pushed me aside
They are the ones who shunned me
They are the ones who told me their lies
Their pride in themselves has stunned me
They are the reason I can’t see myself
The way that my true love can see me
They are the ones who never will know
Just what it is like to be me
They are the ones who looked at my face
and told me I’ll never be pretty
They saw that my body took up so much space
and whispered that I was a pity
They are the ones who see others’ clothes
and transform themselves into mimes
(I hate them so much it makes me sick,
and it even makes me rhyme!)
The scars on my wrist will show them my pain
But as usual, they always ignore it.
So deep in my heart where there’s been so much rain
Is where I forever will store it.
They are the ones who shunned me
They are the ones who told me their lies
Their pride in themselves has stunned me
They are the reason I can’t see myself
The way that my true love can see me
They are the ones who never will know
Just what it is like to be me
They are the ones who looked at my face
and told me I’ll never be pretty
They saw that my body took up so much space
and whispered that I was a pity
They are the ones who see others’ clothes
and transform themselves into mimes
(I hate them so much it makes me sick,
and it even makes me rhyme!)
The scars on my wrist will show them my pain
But as usual, they always ignore it.
So deep in my heart where there’s been so much rain
Is where I forever will store it.
~Them, by Katherine Smallwood
“When I started my junior year of high school (2007-2008), I had been in my new school for about seven months. I had several friends and I was generally happy – except for the rich, popular girls that whispered rumors about me behind my back. I didn’t have a problem with this in my new school until I had “come out of the broom closet”, so to speak. I am a practicing Wiccan and have been since I was twelve. Once I came out about my unorthodox beliefs, a lot of people freaked out. They didn’t know what to think of me, and they deflected their fear of me and bullied me instead. I was constantly asked what Satan was up to that day, what the biggest number of people I’ve ever been in an orgy with was, and some people even asked me to perform spells for them (weight loss, good grades, you name it). I tried to educate them but they didn’t listen to me. Luckily my friends had my back, but I didn’t have any classes with them since they were a year behind me, so I had to stick it out in class. I had dealt with bullies since second grade, so I was used to the ridicule, and I found solace in poetry. This was one of my poems that I had written after I started cutting myself, a habit which I have yet to break.”
You Will Rise Project 
Fortunately I have won my battle with depression and self-injury since this poem was posted. 🙂