I am not looking to be judged

I am quiet because it pushes normal people away and attracts the ones who will understand. I cut because I like the way it feels. I am addicted to the pain. I don’t feel like myself if I can’t see a scar. I am emo. If you ask how I am I will say I’m fine, because you can’t understand. I used to be like you. I’m human, just a strange type. If I could only take off the mask you could see me. But the problem is, I don’t remember what I am without putting on a show. If I were to tell you who I am, what I’ve done, you would fade away from me. You would slowly dissapear. It’s not you’re fault, I am just not worth much.
Though I say I am emo, I don’t look the part. I look like any ordinary girl. Most people like me have gages, vibrant hair colors, heavy eyeliner. I look normal. If you saw me walking down the street, you would never know. I can’t look like who I am because then they would know. I have to live in hiding. I have to laugh at jokes and smile at strangers so they won’t see past my show. I’m tired of hiding. I can’t fight anymore. I’m not strong. I’m done looking for help. I’m done trying to make people understand. They don’t, and that’s okay. I’ve tried to fight my own war, but I’ve lost. There is no more.