Who am I?


Today I am a writer,
tommrow I am a student,
but who am I to you.

Some days I feel like I am a regent,
your ruler,
worshiped and revered.

Others I am a companion,
a friend through it all.

Yet on others I am a jester,
set upon a dunking booth.

You balls of insults hit my heart,
and send me sprawling into the icy,
shark infested waters of my own
self-torture.

"Look what you've done now!"

"Worthless whore!"

"Who could ever love you?"

"You're pathetic."

My mind screams at me.
I sink lower, lower and deeper still.
The thoughts surround me,
drowning me.

Who will come and rescue me,
save me from this horrid grave.
Who will be my companion, my friend?

I have no one, and so,
I die.

Drowning in my own self-hate.
While you look on,
calling for the next.