Thought But Never Spoken

Hurt

Picture day. Picture day is literally everyone's least favorite day of school. Your parents want their perfect little angel to look perfect while you really could not care. You put on your fake smile and then leave hoping you actually like this year's photo. But for most people does that fake smile ever leave?

So many people hide behind their fake smiles to impress others and fit in. Flash that smile to catch the eye of an upper classmen. Or just flash it to prove their life is normal.

Not to pick on girls but, we hide the best. Getting up hours before the sun wakes up just so you can look like you belong or to make yourself perfect. How many of us can raise our hand saying "I don't care what other people think..."

I know I cannot. It is a lot harder than you would think. I can't help it that I wonder what people think about me. Its natural for me to want people to like me. I was made fun of for my perky personality and cheesy smile. For some reason I haven't felt good enough since because in my eyes I wasn't good enough.

I get up extra early to try to look my best. I taught myself how to smile and act like I could "fit in." But that is extremely hard to do in today's society. Especially when you have standards that only a few understand.

There are scars. Mental and emotional streaked all over me. People asking stupid questions about my morals and laughing at my "abnormal" standards. All I was doing was living my life in the most normal way I could.

I just put that fake smile on and continued through the day. A day that ended saturated in tears and smeared mascara. It hurt to have something special to me disrespected in such a way. It also just hurt me. I try so hard to just blend in but all some people seem to see is how different I am.

Since then I decided that no one would see me hurt. I would have the best fake smile that even my closest friends would never know something was wrong unless I told them. I will never change myself or my standards to fit in but I could isolate myself.

On a lonely island I sit, any words meant to bother me will never reach me. But I cannot stand being lonely, so I leave it sometimes. Whenever I venture off my island somehow I get hurt. Paranhas are always waiting to eat me up. Now I bring a knife.

When I say knife I'm saying I can defend myself. Now when a piranha tries to bite me I don't end up in tears. Just scars from the teeth marks.

Words don't hurt anymore. Sensitivity used to be my best friend but as I get older I notice I can smile through those bad days with ease. I am more tired of the immaturity of the whole situation.

The pain of those words still live in me but there is no need to cry. Just seeing their faces reminds me of past conversations. They don't even have to say anything for me to remember exactly what they said in the past. I just have to put on that fake smile and move past it.

Food for thought: if you wrinkle and smash a paper as much as you can, will you ever be able to make it just as crisp as it was before you received it? Not possible. Maybe people are the same way.