That's What Hurt

All I ask is a little support—

Is it really that much to ask?

One word isn't what hurt me—

It's what came after

When they all just decided to get behind

What felt like a thousand knives in my back.

I wouldn't—couldn't—force anything,

That's just not right of me.

But I asked, and asked nicely,

And everyone thought it nice to get behind

And kick me when I'm down.

I can take one—but a barrage?

I tried to get up,

But every movement brought searing pains from the past.

I tried to get up,

But I was afraid of another barrage.

I tried to get up,

But I couldn't... I just couldn't.

And there I lie,

In a messy, insecure heap of nothing but hair, flesh and bone.

And there I was just a shell,

Because I'd already let out my soul in the words I'd written.

That's what hurt—

The cold rejection to even give me and my story a chance.

That's what hurt—

That it was a part of me that they rejected more than it was just words.

But just like a story,

I have to move on.

As much as it hurts,

I really can't do much else.

Life rolls on, drags on,

And I'm left with no other choice than to fail at even the support of my own friends.