I don’t belong here

My mind is far too liberal for the constraints of this conservative body 
The rows along my wrists birthed by blades 
Are my silent cry for help,
The smile on my lips never reaching my eyes
Deceit to hide the fact that inside I’m mourning the death of my passions;
In pursuit of an education that means nothing to me.
Who am I ?
No really
Who am I?
Not who my parents say I can be,
Not who society expects me to be,
Not who I am in my fantasies,
Who am I?
Why am I even here?
Maybe I should end it all.
Finally be rid of my fears.
But what if it doesn’t end here;
And the torment that lies beyond the embrace of death Is all the more excruciating.
Somebody please help me.

I watch as she languishes hopelessly on her island of sorrow
Sending aid in form of words of encouragement 
They sustain her for a while but is insufficient to set her free.
The worst part is that she doesn’t realise that she has the power to rise from her position.
She’s fighting a losing battle in the war between society Vs the teenage girl
Getting beaten by sticks and stones of insecurities and societal constraints 
Whilst ignoring the bazooka of self confidence lying fallow beside her.
She’s abandoned her insult-proof vest of self-love
And her helmet of appreciation
She tries to swim away
But is knocked back by wave after wave of criticism
She has no idea what she’s capable of.
Check out more of Isaac Peters’ work at IsaacPeters.wordpress.com !

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