If I Had the Chance to Speak...

The biggest problem is that you don’t know what it’s like for me.

You do what you want regardless of who it hurts

Never stopping to listen to the cries of your victims.

Because of course, for you,

There were never such things as consequences.

You don’t know what it’s like to be faced with such deep, passionate hate.

You don’t know what it’s like to be afraid to go to school.

You don’t know what it’s like when the whole world points a finger to laugh

At the boy who’s different

At the boy who came out too soon.

You don’t know what it’s like to ice the black eye you pretended was from football.

You don’t know what it’s like to hide your face, and your feelings, when you’re anywhere but home.

You don’t know what it’s like to be told you’re not good enough

That your existence doesn’t matter

That nobody wants you here anyway.

You don’t know what it’s like to cry in the shower where no one can hear you.

You don’t know what it’s like to fall asleep to the sound of your own sobs.

You don’t know what it’s like to be tortured day after day by the people you once thought you    could trust.

No.

You just keep doing the same damn things you’ve been doing

Because you’ll never know what it’s like for me.