I’m not the only kid
who grew up this way
surrounded by people who used to say
that rhyme about sticks and stones
as if broken bones
hurt more than the names we got called
and we got called them all
so we grew up believing no one
would ever fall in love with us
that we’d be lonely forever
that we’d never meet someone
to make us feel like the sun
was something they built for us
in their tool shed
so broken heart strings bled the blues
as we tried to empty ourselves
so we would feel nothing
don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone
that an ingrown life
is something surgeons can cut away
that there’s no way for it to metastasize
The Poem
To This Day by Shane Koyczan
(via musicbthefoodoflove)
I remember being in school and a girl went up to the teacher and said “Justin called me ugly” and the teacher replied ” sticks and stones Sally” Making it okay for little Justin to be a bully We often cloud our judgement and base it off of weather it actually physically leaves bruises or not. Pain is pain, No matter How or where It’s felt.
