The wispers of the night know my tears too well. I seem to always feel so plain, so ugly, so useless. My pity has hit it's all time low. I don't know what others see in me. I don't like what I see.
They tell me I'm beautiful or tell me how nice I am. But really I don't feel beautiful or really even all that nice.
What I see is an ugly mule with puffy hair, and horrid braces. A girl who would rather hide her true feelings than show them. A girl who holds anger in, and plasters a big fake smile across her face. I am a coward, among anything. I worry none stop. I make friends with people who don't even treat me like a friend, but rather a dog.
I hate who I am, I hate what I am, and most of all I hate that I don't know what I want.
I was once told that I should be a prom queen, but I have to confess I don't even know why I should be. A queen is someone others look to, someone who takes care of the rest, someone strong.
But I don't feel strong, I don't feel any thing but hate toward myself. Whatever the sport, extra activity, or community service act it's never enough.
People think they can figure you out, and plaster a lable of indespencable means for who you are as a person. But all of them are wrong, so very wrong. The arragance in High School is at it's all time high, and right now it's taking me higher than I've ever been before.
I feel like a trapped animal waiting to be eatten by the big bad wolf.
I am so tired of pretending to be this happy-go-lucky girl, because people expect me to be. When in reality I am in anything but the sort.
The trueth is at the end of the day I will always be willing to be there for someone else, but who's going to be there for me?