fictitious-smiles

Should I kill myself or have a cup of tea? I decide on the latter and I'm not sure why. Probably because I can. Life is a never-ending scroll of be-goods, be-happies, be-in-controls, be-okays, be-strongs and be-appreciatives. So what's another day? Just another day closer to death. Still, life seems incredibly long, don't you think? So long, it's hard to see the end and nearly impossible to touch – even with a knife in my hand that could easily skewer my heart, make it squirm and still like a dying nightingale – sealing its death with a pathetic squeal of almost-song. Life is pain and people in pain are a pain in the ass. Perhap

I'm that girl who never wants trouble, because she always is quiet. I'm that girl who cries, because no one understands. I'm that girl who writes, because she has no other safe place to go. I'm that girl who constantly dreams, because her reality is a nightmare. I'm that girl who counts to ten, because she knows if she screams, she gets pain. I'm that girl who never talks, because everyone judges. I'm that girl who tries too much, when she always wants to break down. I'm that girl who doesn't care for drama, because it's all fake. I'm the girl who looks happy, but is depressed deep down. I'm that girl. . . that girl who sits in the corner.