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 ...
“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...
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....
