Insecurities.
Screaming at me,
haunting me,
clawing at every inch
of my body.
That little voice inside my head
sounding strangely like my own,
tearing me down,
apart,
from the inside.
Each hate-filled blow,
hits harder than the last.
Each self-inflicted cut,
each burn,
hidden in shame,
nonexistent to the piercing eyes of others,
visible only in that lonely mirror reflection.
Puffy eyes,
tear-stained cheeks,
little dotted lines drawn
over every flawed bit of me.
Not pretty enough,
talented enough,
smart enough,
good enough.
There is not a perfect inch
within my being.
Why can't I be beautiful?
I'm trying to escape,
trying to get away,
trying to ignore what they do,
forget about what they say.
No move I ever make,
can ever be one right,
every simple thing I say,
always starts a fight.
I'm sorry I'm not perfect,
the way I'm supposed to be,
the thing is your slowly killing me,
why can't you see?
I'd really like to run away,
where someone would understand,
to someone who could see my pain,
and gently take my hand.
If I hugged you,
would you never let go?
If I kissed you,
would you cherish that moment?
If I reached for your hand,
would you take mine gently?
If I needed a shoulder,
would you let me cry on yours?
If I needed to talk,
would you really listen?
If I needed to scream,
would you do it with me?
If I needed to go,
would you come with me?
If I fell for you,
would you catch me?
or just let me hit the pavement?
A Beautiful - Terrible Scene by brokenxbeauty, literature
Literature
A Beautiful - Terrible Scene
You are in a vast forest. You walk into a big clearing, a meadow. Soft, lush, green grass is growing with little clumps of tiny yellow flowers here and there. The meadow is very big and is surrounded by trees on all sides, but one.
In the distance you see something glisten in the sun and run towards it. It’s a lake, filled with clear, blue, glistening water, not that deep. At the bottom you can see the white sand and little fish swimming. Around the lake are cherry, peach, and apple trees, ripe and sweet-smelling, in full bloom. You pull a peach off of one of the trees and bite into it, tasting it’s sweet juices.
You look up
I'm sorry for the things I do,
sorry for the things I say.
Sorry that I talked to you,
sorry that I'm this way.
I'm sorry that I trusted you,
and sorry that I lied.
Sorry that I laughed at you,
sorry that I cried.
I'm sorry that I hated you,
I'm sorry I loved you too,
I'm sorry that you broke my heart,
and that it still belongs to you.
Trying to cover the tears, trying not to show my fears.
Why do I keep it all inside? My pain getting harder to hide.
I used to be cheery, it used to be real.
But now it's different, and they're making some big deal.
Saying "Why are you so sad?" and "You look depressed."
Can't you just leave me alone, let it rest?
So maybe I've changed...what's that got to do with you?
Just because I've changed? Well maybe you have too.
Everyone changes.
As they look upon her casket,
tears in their eyes,
wondering why she did this,
they can't seem to help but cry.
What they don't know would hurt them,
suicide was her dismiss,
but could you call it suicide?
she was dead so long before this.
hey, pretty girl,
try not to cry.
i know he broke your heart,
it all was just a lie.
hey, pretty girl,
try and smile just for me.
forget all about him,
he's worthless as can be.
hey, pretty girl,
don't let this bring you down.
you've got far too pretty a smile,
to waste it on a frown.