They sit, judge and point fingers at you.
Make you think you have failed, failed them.
Like you owe anything to them.They don't see you when you are hungry or thirsty.
Or looking for something to wear.
But when you get the clothes elsewhere, they start to analyze how exposed your legs are.
How short the gown is.
How tight the shirt is.
They start pointing.You do different jobs at odd hours, of course you have to fuel your body.
Those odd hours you work, you grab a snack and feed.
Daily.
Your body grows bigger.
Then they call you,
Looking disappointed, you are getting really fat.
Like it's some sort of a crime.They talk about you, daily.
Like they are planning their lives.
The people closer to them they have neglected because of your existence.You take happy pictures, keep them on the internet.
She is always posting.
Like there is a rule to your own life.
Like they own you.They see all of this but are always blind when you actually need them to talk.
They know when to send you a message to change your profile picture but don't know when you need someone to talk to.They know all about your life, but can't say anything about it. Or do anything for or about it.
Nose high and pointed.
Shoes shiny and lit.
Makeup flawless.
Outfit, dapper.
Ego? As big as their lack of sense!They have lived their life and wants to live yours.
Do you want them to?
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YOU ARE READING
Heart Worries.
PoetryWords from my heart, probably every other persons thought or some one's thought.