Being the popular girl can be hard if you're a people-pleaser. There are so many things people want you to be and do, and it can be hard sometimes. Always be yourself!
My lips are wrinkled from fake smiling.
I thought fake happiness was worth trying.
Fake emotions to cover up the real,
Teeth whiter than shiny moonstone pearls.
Eyes glazed no longer from sadness, but my tired soul.
I'm shattered and no longer whole.
There's rebels near control,
There's melancholy in every happy memory,
There's the ones who feel it all, and they're trembling.
Glass can puncture,
Who knew blood could flow like a river?
Feelings can puncture,
Words have a lot of hurt to deliver.
Expectations are high.
But by now my eyes are drought dry.
Like a riverbed, fish souls traveling through wind together,
Water-born spirits kindred.
Still swimming, even through a wasteland.
Kind of like me.
Except I'm alone,
On my own,
No one's numbers buzzing on my phone.
Was popularity worth all this horrid mental pain?
Will things always stay this way?
Will my ironic situation remain the same?
It all depends on me.
