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Array
(
[sid] => 79537
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => No-One Asked Nicole
[time] => 2005-01-12 01:08:05
[hometext] => I wrote this poem this year at school, I'm 14, we had to write a poem. It isnt based on anything
[bodytext] => “How are you feeling?” No-one asked Nicole. Helpless, lost and misunderstood. Out of control and bewildered. Forgotten, looked over, not very good. “What are you doing?” No-one asked Nicole. Hiding, they’re coming after me. Like yesterday and before and all of this year, They come and they like to hurt me. “What do they call you?” No-one asked Nicole. “Ugly”, “Fat slut”, “Stupid”, and “Freak”. Relentlessly till I believe it myself, In the mirror I pour over my physique. “What do you look like?” No-one asked Nicole. That girl in the mirror’s not me. Face gaunt and so pale, body bloated and large, I’m ugly, so ugly, it’s painful to see. “How are you feeling?” No-one asked Nicole. Sick to my stomach, inside. My heart aches and I need to talk about it, But there’s no one in whom I confide. “What are you doing?” No-one asked Nicole. Cutting my arm with this knife. The pain it brings on is nothing compared, To the pain in my everyday life. “Why do you do it?” No-one asked Nicole. Because these tiny red drops Prove to myself, that I can control, When the pain commences and stops. “What’s that on your arm?” No-one asked Nicole. It’s nothing, sleeves cover the lines. It may be hot, but I cope all day long. Hiding these tell-tale signs. “Please will you stop this?” No-one asked Nicole. Not now, I am too far away. Each slice of the knife pushes me further. From the torment I receive ev’ryday. “How can I help you?” No-one asked Nicole. You can’t, today is too late. If you’d asked earlier I would be alright. Now death is my certain fate. “Why are you dying?” No-one asked Nicole. Because I’m unloved and unaided. Because I was bullied, because I am fat. Because who I am has now faded. “Are you here daughter?” No-one asked Nicole. No mum, I’m far, far from here. Just like you were, when I needed you most, When I wanted to tell you my fear. “How are you feeling?” No-one asked Nicole. Free, like the load has been lifted. Betrayal and hate are leaving me slowly. In these last moments, through thoughts I have sifted. “Where are you going?” No-one asked Nicole. I’m flying, towards the white light. The place I am going is better than here, I can rest from this long, weary fight. [comments] => 8 [counter] => 154 [topic] => 39 [informant] => nicolettea [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Grief )
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