sheyannadawn72*

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 were called. And we got called them all. So we grew up believing, nobody 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 then a broken bone. To this day, despite a loving husband she doesn’t think shes beautiful because of a birth mark that takes up a little less then half her face. Kids used to say “She looks like a wrong answer that someone tried to erase but couldn’t quite get the job done.” And they’ll never understand that shes raising two kids whose definition of beauty begins with the word mom. Because they see your heart before they see your skin because shes only ever been amazing. He… was a broken branch graphed onto a different family tree… adopted. He started therapy in 8th grade. Had a personality made up of tests and pills. Lived like the up hills were mountains and the down hills were cliffs for 5th suicidal a tidal wave of anti depressants and a adolescents for being called copper. One part because of the pills… 99% parts because of the cruelty. He tried to kill himself in 10th grade when a kid who could still go home to mom and dad who had the audacity to tell him, “get over it.” As if depression is something that can be remedied by any of the contents found in a first aid kit. Despite an army of friends who call him an inspiration he remains a conversation between people who can’t understand sometimes being drug free has less to do with addiction, and more to do with sanity. We weren’t the only kids who grew up this way… To this day kids are still being called names. At night.. when the rest were sleeping we kept walking the type rope and yes some of us fell. But all of this… is just debris. If you can’t see anything beautiful about yourself, THEN GET A BETTER MIRROR. Look a little closer. Stare a little longer.
Theres something inside you that made you keep trying despite everyone that told you to quit. You built a cast around your broken heart, and decided, THEY WERE WRONG. Cause maybe you didn’t belong to a group or a click. Maybe they decided to pick you last for basketball, or everything. How can you hold your ground if everyone around you wants to bury you beneath it, YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE THAT THEY WERE WRONG. They have to be wrong…… Why else would we still be here? We are not an abandoned car stalled out and sitting empty on some high way. And if in some way we are, don’t worry. We only got out to walk to get gas. Our lives will always be a balancing act. That has less to do with pain… and more to do with beauty.

-To this day project by Shane Koyczan