My Soft Spot

Five out of seven days a week I go through a battle, sometimes even six or seven days a week because the battle just isn't quite over yet. Why we keep fighting these battles is a mystery to me, since every time you win.
Does it give you some sort of sick satisfaction to break me down?
I'm only a child, a child of the 21st century where I live my life fighting this constant battle while holding a smile on my face, pretending like it's all okay.
But what for? It's not like anyone notices, it's not like anyone cares. Or at least that's what you tell me.
You say you stand for peace, equality, and mutual respect as you scream at me down the hallway and tell everyone to hate me with combined disrespect.
This fight is not okay, it should not be happening. with anyone.
You, me, she, he, we.
We do not deserve this judgment from someone who doesn't know a thing about us.
I am sick of fighting this constant battle, I am sick of feeling like the only thing I have to turn to is self-mutilation, I am sick of trying to dodge you in that tiny school hallway.
Because every time that I see you, you bruise my confidence a little more than the day before and I'm almost done with this fight. I'm ready to throw the towel in for one last time and say that I give up. give up trying to fake my being okay, and just leaving.
But what does that make me? Another little girl that you've broken down? Just another face that couldn't handle the pressure? Does that mean I'm just like any other teenage girl with a bully?
You can't possibly tell me that this is your first time treating someone like this, there is no possible way. You are way too good at it, because every time and everyday you know exactly what to say, and it always hits that same soft spot.