Why do things end up like this?
I hate this, I hate myself, I hate how I can't tell people how I feel. I've convinced everyone, you can't hurt me, you can't push my self esteem down, I'll always come back with a smile and a smart-ass remark.
Hilarious, right?
I feel rain pelt against my face, the dark clouds looming over my head and my feet pattering in the puddles. I hate my house, my dark, empty house that I have to stay in. That when I'm hungry I have to live off of gas store food. My brother constantly complaining how I should be eating better, being less this and more that.
In school, I smile and wave to my friends, I focus on work and do my best. I smile and I try to be as social as I can. "She's a smart girl, she knows what to do."
But I'm so lost, so lost in my train of thought that I can't feel any of the tears slide down my face. All I feel is a shiver run down my spine and my heavy bag on my back as I walk down the cold streets of the small town. My eyes locked on the tar of the street, emotions hit in a whirlwind of color, dark blues, greys, and reds tower my mind, like they're pulling me down into a painting. Colors are hard to describe in feeling, but when you think about it, it makes sense.
Blue, deep and dark it resembles the night sky you stare up at when you feel yourself spiralling into a world of thoughts. Laying on the damp grass and thinking of the mass amounts of stars hanging above your head in space. It's when you close your eyes in a dark room, and feel yourself cascading into a deep sleep. Or even better, a crisp body of water, crashing at the rocks.
This is how I think of things, and I feel like I'm being dragged down into my thoughts, doubts, worries. I look up at the cloudy sky, cars whizzing by and splashing puddles in every which direction.
But no, she can't cry. She can't be this weak.
No, that's just a disappointment to us anyways.
