Everybody wants to judge,

but nobody wants to listen.

All they see is a blank canvas,

A pale imitation of a person,

A quietness worth mocking,

Instead of worrying.

They don’t see how ugly my tears are,

How they brand my face with shame.

Shame that I am this pathetic,

That I allow myself such weakness.

They don’t see how much disapproval stains,

How it molds me into something fragile.

It burns my insides like acid,

Hissing reminders of my rawness.

But all they see is obedience.

However unwilling I really am,

Disappointment binds me,

So they see a guise of loyalty.

I’m not what they want me to be.

No pale pink flowers and hollow smiles.

There’s nothing wrong with those things.

But I want it to be my choice.

They want a plastic figurine,

To pose and dress nicely and forgive.

To respect them.

So I did.

I tried, and I died.

The plastic was left to burn.

It’s not the pretty little world you want.

And I’m not the pretty little person.

I am fire and rage and riots,

I am opinionated and loud,

I will fight now.

I’m not scared of you anymore.

You judged me for my faults,

And my virtues alike.

You pushed against things

That were beyond my control.

You refused to listen,

When I begged in silence.

But you will hear my screams.