Cheyenne Smith

The Way I Changed

I was young, I was viewed as different by my peers

Did that give them the right to single me out?

Why was that their reason for tormenting me?

I was judged and oppressed because I was never society’s idea of the norm

People laughed at me, they even acted like I was a germ

I was taken the mick out of on numerous times

I had been discriminated against and segregated all my life

 

After years of crying, being scared to go to school

My mental health started to take its toll

I deteriorated in the blink of an eye

My what was once a big and beautiful smile vanished

I was left somewhat frail, failing to piece together my puzzle

Alone and asphyxiated by my inner demon,

I felt like I was being buried alive

At the time, I hoped to relieve the suffering

I picked up the razor blade then it became my drug

Thinking it would make me better but in reality it was similar to a high

A high which lasted only a moment before it would die

I gained scars before I earned my fighting spirit

The fight was long but hard, I am now over six years self-harm free

 

The pain changed me or maybe I let the pain change me

I matured from the hurt, learnt from the distress

I felt a need to shape myself to society’s idea

I altered my behaviour for I no longer wanted to be different

Then I became a whole new person and I continue to ask

myself am I now fake?

I didn’t want to be that person, the person I once was

Although I have now changed, people still picture me as the same

person as I was 6 or 7 years ago

That me died a long time ago

But did I change for the better or was it for the worst?