this is what it is

this is what it is
they expect us to deal with it
and so we did and we still do
but they look at us weirdly
thinking we don’t seem right

this is what it is
a badly destroyed childhood
with a glimpse of terror too soon
even when we struggled growing up
we are still frowned upon

this is what it is
bottled up thoughts and feelings
excessive crying at twelve a.m.
making everything seem okay
because we hate being pitied

this is what it is
with never a clear understanding
about love, happiness, and family
we stopped believing in fairy tales
at such an early age

this is what it is
forced to answer such questions
when reminiscing brings such pain
being the ‘it’ subject of whispers
we just act like it doesn’t hurt

this is what it is
we are simply innocent victims
expected to blend into the rest
despite reoccurring nightmares
and the everlasting emptiness
but this is what it is