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"THE NEW FAKE ME "


In Context

Category:- Teen anger poem

Disclaimer:- Please Don't relate this with my real life because this poem came out of my imagination



Anger is a human emotion that we all feel at one time on another it is not the feeling what is problematic rather it is a lack of knowledge of how we Express our anger which leads to so much sadness





The New Fake Me


ⒸPsychology and Philosophy

Published:- June 2K21


The blade is cold

But not old


I didn't go deep

I didn't even weep


Just one cut is all I need

And my mind goes calm, while my cut bleeds


It was harmless but helped so much

I stopped being mad and such


No more angry thoughts went through my mind

Just fascination, everything else left behind


Is it the start or the end?

All I know is I don't want to disappoint my friend


Is it too late for me?

I thought I was getting better but I only pretended to be


The cut now stains my arm

Nothing big or deep, nothing to cause much harm


A cat scratch is what I'll say

But I doubt people will see any day


They won't see the real me and who I am

They won't see my body is disconnected from my brain stem


I don't want attention, I don't deserve it

I play along with the world, but my candle is not lit


I'm a lost soul on this land

My minds drifting, my body sinking in the sand


I've given up on people

It's now me alone in my own steeple


I get so mad so quick

Like a switch on the wall, tense with every click


Maybe I'm only meant to be there for others

Don't the daughters learn from the mothers?


Only my mother does not know me

She only sees who she wants to see


There's no way her sweet child

Cut her arm to keep her mind from going wild


Do they realize their actions affect me so?

That sometimes they cause me to hit my low?


No, they don't, all they see is him

They can't even see the pattern; my cups reached their brim.


He angers then he lies

To get people to take him back. I bet he even denies


The wrongs that he's done

All because he thinks life is fun


But when will he see

That he's just another wannabe


It's possible I just don't belong

There are parts of me I've discovered are gone


Like my patience to wait

I'm done waiting there's nothing to debate


Once I'm of age you'll barely see me

Once I get a car I'll never be here to be


I witness the yells or shouts

A witness to the pattern of oh okay and get out


A witness to tears and uproars

A witness to hurtful words and slamming doors


A witness to a father who's confused

Because my mother is either okay or blowing a fuse


I'll stop being the victim of being on the edge

Because I'll stop being around, I won't be on the ledge


I won't be the victim of feeling guilty anymore

I won't be the victim or witness anytime I walk out that door


Am I lost? That's easy to say

Is there hope? We'll see each other each coming day.