I wish I was like them At this point who knows whether I don’t know who I am or don’t like who am I… maybe I do know who I am but cannot except the fact that it is truly me because I hate myself. I look at these other girls who are completely different from me and fit so well with society. I try to be like them and when I come close to fitting in why do I hate it? Am I fitting in or am I trying to be someone I’m not? Because clearly I’m doing something! Maybe I’m ashamed of femininity maybe I want my masculine energy to dominate once again but it’s slowly slipping because I no longer want to be in control and that scares me because if I’m not in control than I have no voice… or is it that I don’t want to be masculine because that might be the reason why girls don’t like me or don’t vibe with my energy? I could fit in society but to do that I have to change, but what if being the outcast is what is needed.

“Everyone wants to judge but no one wants to listen”, complained my friend. I disagree, I believe those who judge were people who were listeners to many endless tales of never ending stories, who simply got tired of playing mouse in a game where hollow cats managed to win.

The words flow like a river of tears, I pour as I soak my book full of words. Yet the words struggle to flow when I speak and at last they float into oblivion. I look up as they fly above and am left in this crowd full of people yearning for the words to come back. My heart starts to race as I drop to my knees muted, stripped of any words, feeling naked in front of their eyes…including my very own.

Reflecting towards the mirror, She viewed what lays beneath the skin. Her colourless eyes roamed around her body, head to toe, inspecting the fine details only she could see. Lost in a trance, as time passes by she finally stopped and stared direct into those same eyes which once held hope but now remain mist of smoke. And she wondered where it all went wrong.