Careless
A clear wind
Through my hair.
A whistle of a hope long forgotten
Like water through my fingers,
And a once open idea
Ripped away
With judging eyes
And the jabbing,
Probing minds of others.
A careless whisper of
Stupid
Ugly
Hopeless
Freak
Filling the heart and
Blinding the mind,
Filling the cup so high
It overflows.
Drowning in what it was supposed
To work for
Strive for
Live for.
Once you boil over
There is no way to regain
What is lost.
So that in the end
Your mirror is the only thing
That reflects who
And what you are,
And tells you truly.
But soon,
Even the mirrors will turn on you
Showing you something
That only you can see,
An image pasted together from
Lies
False ideas
And rude remarks,
A person that is hurt not only on the inside,
But scarred in a way that no one else can understand,
Something others brush off as
Someone else's problem.
So maybe people would stop hurting themselves,
Killing themselves.
If we muted the hatred
And broke all the mirrors.
