my parents wanted me to live in a backwards world.
and so i was punished for their crimes.
picked on, beaten, tortured, nearly raped.
all the things they said their "way of life" would keep me from.
and i was the one who got the worst of it.
finally breaking free, starting my own life, and choosing my own path.
finding people who guided me through my pain, helping me to become a different person.
these were the ones who got me through. who promised that it would be better.
that they would be there.
once again, i find myself a third wheel.
beaten, tortured, abused.
i call to my new friends for help.
they are not there.
the only one who comes, does not understand, and can only pass judgement.
how is this all my fault?
i am all alone.
i raise the knife to my arm once more.
and this is how i die.