Not Beautiful

Here I am on the ground again been awhile since I touched cold pavement. Funny how the last thing I remember is always you standing over me with a hammer. You wait until I'm beaten down, then ready aim: pound, pound, pound... Why am I always on your radar? What makes you have to tear me apart? I stand my ground then turn right around and question myself. Maybe I'm bad. Maybe I'm wrong. No, just weak cuz I let you get to me. You think I'm wrong, inexperienced. I might be young, but you're just sick. Sick as you watch tears form in my eyes, Sick as you stand and watch me cry. Sick as you watch with a smile. Sick. But I refuse to cry in front of you. Yes, I've lost tears over you. Yes, I've felt needle-pricked and bruised but...you're just sick so I won't cry in front of you. It's people like you that make me think I'm not beautiful. Do not say you love me. Do not act like you care. Do not touch me. Do not lay your head on my shoulder. Don't you see? It takes every last ounce of long-suffering, peace and self-control I have to be close enough to share recycled air with you. You're sure not my family or friend. Its people like you that make me think I'm not beautiful.