You know me as the sweet little girl always happy.
As the bright blanket over our heads, among the clouds.
Or the beautiful blossoming flower in the wood.
But I will always remember myself as I am.
A-a dirty,
ugly,
Fat,
Putrid,
Me.
I am the only person who knows myself.
Yet, I don't.
Masks.
My name is said with joy and beauty.
Torn, or ripped apart.
This smile?
A deceitful trick.
To mask the devil within.
And when I'm gone?
No one will have to feel the pain of being with me.
No one will have to pretend to grieve.
No names will be said.
I will be torn up, and thrown into the world unknown.
Maybe it's better that way.
I have no one loving me after all.
No one will ever love me.
No one could ever love me.
I am Skye.
YOU ARE READING
Falling.
Teen FictionYou know my name, Not my story. You know what I've done, Not what I've been through. If you were in my shoes, You'd fall at the first step.
