Pieces are falling all around me. And eventually I'm going to fall. And all I will see is what people want me to be. Let's face it I'm not perfect there is no such thing as perfect. I'm not the most beautiful pretty person you will see in the world and I'm not the smartest. But let's get this straight no matter what kind of person you are everyone has feelings. Everyone. And right now all I want to do is punch something until my hands hurt but the thing is I'm only punching at the air. I'm not connecting with anything. The pieces have fallen. So now I'm staring at what people really want me to be: absolutely nothing.
YOU ARE READING
Their is still debris
Short StoryMany people have hard times in their life but their is always something after the hard times or something people feel during those times. (So sorry for the cheesy bad summary.)
