Just another lonely kid...

I remember back when I was young -
I used to wish to be grown up.

Now I wish more than anything to be young again,
Young enough to not have any worries,
Young enough to believe everything is simple.

If I fell over
And cut my knees
I'd go crying to my mum.
She'd always make everything alright,
Kiss my cheeks and
Wash my knees.
I believed my mum could sort out what ever trouble I got into.

But now my cuts are too deep to be healed by anyone.

When I was young
Nothing mattered.
When ever I felt scared someone was always there,
To wipe my tears,
To reassure me that I was pretty and that nothing could ever hurt me.

At night my dad would read me a bed time story
Then watch over me until I fell into a peaceful dream.

Now every night I lie in my dark room
And cry myself to sleep.
I feel so alone.

Mum is asleep on the sofa downstairs.
She didn't deserve any of this.
She deserves a better daughter than me.

Dad is either on the phone or down the pub.
He doesn't really care about me.

When I was 6 my granddad died;
I was heart broken.
But my mum was there for me once again.

A year later my great granddad died.
And yet again, Mum never left my side.

Now I've grown up and she cares for my litlte brother more than she ever cared about me.

Now I miss my granddads so much
And Mum isn't there.

The other day I was told Granddad would be proud of me if he was still alive.
How could anyone be proud of this,
Proud of what I've turned into,
Proud of... what I do.

So at night I cry.
I hug my knees real tight.
I take the blade and cut my wrist.
I've convinced myself the blade is the only thing I have,
The only thing I've got looking after me.

When I was younger if I couldn't sleep
I'd climb into bed with my mum and dad.
I am too old for that now.

These days I can never sleep,
So I lie awake.
And cry.
And cut.

Back in primary school I had friends,
I had a smile.
Now I don't know what a smile is
And at school I have no friends.

When I was 10 I used to play kiss chase with the boys.
That was when I was young and
Boys didn't judge if you were fat or ugly.

Now no boys want me.

So here I am looking back at what I used to be
And hating myself for what I've turned into.

I can never say sorry enough times to put everything right.

Although I still have my mum things have changed.
I should be able to fight my own battles.
I wouldn't want to worry her anyway.
Not even my mum would understand me now.
I don't even understand myself.

But now I am not young.
I have my own problems, own life, own worries and own way of escaping it all....

Now I wonder why any kid would wish to be grown up.