I Am The Underdog

I am The Underdog.
I am the one that is suppressed.
I am the one that is expected of neutrality because I have been nominated as the one most likely to put up with hatred.
I am the one that doesn't know if outbursting would be betrayal.
I am the one that screams inside, because anyone knows I couldn't, wouldn't, outside.
I am the one that is constantly being pushed down by those who believe they can do so much better than me.
I am the one who is afraid to admit that I am more than what the world thinks.
I am who is tired of being continuously belittled because I don't measure up to their superficial judgments!
I am the one who waits... Because I can't stand to imagine what would happen if I don't.
I am The Underdog.

I can't separate the lies from the truth. Only words are fed to me. And the occasional action when I'm needed. And the thoughts. I can hear all the thoughts. In the simplest of movements, I can see beneath their eyes, what they really think of me. What am I? Just a tool? Am I only someone to be summoned when needed, and discarded with use? And every time I seem to find someone that I can trust, whom I think I can trust, they simply press delete.

And now, I just still haven't learned. Now, I'm still tagging along. Saved as a distraction for targeted embarrassment, or as a procrastination tool, a way to work without working, or as a stuffed figure, used only for my presence. I haven't told anyone. Because I can't. What would happen if I did? I would get several various scoldings for overreacting and lectures of "This is not like you"s, but then they would forget, and I would go back to this. This. Crying in my sleep and slowly going insane.

So I console myself. I put all these things I would say, but never have, all the thoughts that I let pent up. I put them all down. They are my "Things Unsaid."