Battle

Do you know how it feels to be made fun of repeatedly?

Battle

Do you know how it feels to be made fun of repeatedly?

I do.

To be made fun of for an extremely long period of time?

I do.

To be made fun of and hated repeatedly,

so extremely,

that it becomes a really

big part of your reality

and you start to believe that this is your destined reality,

so you start to have an abused mentality

and now you have to survive with that reality of that mentality?

I do.

Do you know what it’s like to hate the very existence of your existence?

I do.

Growing up, I would try to tell myself that I was beautiful,

but self-love was never in my vocabulary.

For a long time, being made fun of and hated was a majority of my reality.

If my past life was a book,

my pages would be covered in so many tears that each page would look like a depiction of the ocean.

Do you know what it’s like for everyone to hate your existence before you even learn how to love it?

I do.

I didn’t believe that my traumatized mentality

would allow me

to love my existence for the beauty it’s meant to be.

I didn’t believe that my traumatized

mentality

would allow me

to be happy

or to receive love or even provide it.

Do you know how it feels to be hated for so long,

that you forgot what receiving a compliment felt like?

My days used to be surrounded with phrases like, “I hate her”, “she’s weird”, “she’s so ugly I want to punch her in the face”

I was hated so much that I started hating myself.

I became my own enemy,

and what do enemies do?

They fight.

So that’s what I did, only I was fighting myself.

I dragged myself into a mental battle that I never wanted to be in.

What’s worse was that I was fighting in a battle that I didn’t even know I was fighting in.

Before I even realized it, my mentality got so much worse

that I started creating scars on my body

because the hate had blinded me from seeing that I was beautiful.

I was scarred in so many battles with myself

that it felt like I gave myself PTSD.

One time, a girl told me that she wished that I would die

and I wanted to respond “Me too”.

I tried to ask for support,

but my traumatized mentality took my words before I could get them out.

Every time I would have a panic attack,

I would try and hold my own hand because I was afraid that no one would hold it for me.

Every time I would cry,

I would try to hug myself because I was afraid no one loved me enough to hold me

I tried to stop the scars from forming on my body

but I was too traumatized

to realize that my body was not made to be abused.

I tried to win the battles,

but my abused mentality

got the worst of me.

The more hate I got,

the more scars I got.

The more scars I got,

the more abuse I gave myself.

The more abuse I gave myself,

the more times I lost my battles against myself.

Do you know how it feels to die while still breathing?

Because that’s how I felt.

I felt like I was dying in my own mentality,

all because I couldn’t win the battles against my mentality,

I just heard my traumatized mentality

screaming to me, “You’re worthless”,

“You should die”, “no one loves you”,

“You’re so ugly”,

Then the scars just kept forming and bleeding, forming and bleeding, forming and bleeding, forming and bleeding!

Do you know what it’s like for ever to hate your existence before you even learn how to love it?

Do you know what it’s like to hate the very existence of your existence?

I did!

Sometimes I still do, but I still keep fighting it.

You see, the scars on my skin symbolize my battle against hate.

slam poetry
Young Poetic  Queen
Young Poetic Queen
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Young Poetic Queen

My name is Yemima Kebede and I am Young Poetic Queen. 

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