Handwritten | Poetry & Prose

seven | 4

Fuck the world.

Fuck everyone in it - intake the best of us, spits us out alive, we're used till we aren't needed, we're rags used for cleaning their own bullshit, we're stories that they blurt out, that entertain the rest of them, we're useless to them.

Fuck the the world, who think we are lost. Who have labelled us in their eyes as "the lost cause."

Fuck what they say to us. What they say about us, what they expect from us, fuck what they mean. Fuck every single belief of theirs, that don't mean a shit at all.

Fuck them.

Fuck those people who get startled by our knowledge of things, our will to become better people, our will to become a part of the world. Fuck them who chase the tails of one another, who don't gave the bus to stand and face on their own. Fuck them who take advantage, who think they are better, who think they don't need anyone.

Fuck them.

When we get up, we get up and they envy. Laugh, because they fear so much, our abilities.

Laugh, because they are nothing compared to us, because when He takes it away from them,

They worth less than rags.

They beg for a place to survive, I'm telling you, they'll act like flies, they would even rub our shoes, they'd surrender, succumb, to every obstacle, to every pain.

Listen to me.

If you have to, you may leave. But don't blame what we have in between.

You worth more than what they think about you, who they treat you, how they speak. You worth more than them, and I know you will reveal it soon.

You are fucking beautiful are heart and soul, fucking stronger than them and they fear you could take their place. They push you down, hoping you would end up the same.

You have everything on you. My belief in you, my side, what we call it Love. You have your armour prepared for the battle.

Shine brightly under the darkest nights. Don't succumb to their pain and hate.