This wasn't how it was supposed to be,
From start to finish
And yet here she was sitting here wondering how something that could've been so cliche turned into the opposite
How could she have let some wild eratic feelings dig my own grave.
From the beginning it always seemed like the cliche story, girl meets crush, girl feels unwanted by crush, girl is tortued by her demons: insecurity.
But it wasnt a cliche it was her story and that, at least to her was far from any overwritten novel theme.
She lived everyday in suspense as if something new waited patiently behind the doors of tommorow.
But over time tommorow just became today with minor tweaks and today quickly became yesterday, old news.
It had all just became boring,
as everthing just seemed to repeat itself.
Sure u would wake up have your great laughs of the day but after that laugh you just returned to nothingness, sameness, something that was never ending.
She had friends, and a family of whom she loved dearly and would die for at a moments notice, she couldn't have been more blessed, she wasn't ungrateful she was just human, and like every human she got bored, bored of the endless social norms, bored of her own hatred towards herself, bored of alot of things that revolved around her.
Hatred, probably the most hated word she found herself repeating day to day in the mirror,
"i hate my hair" "why is it so short and clumpy"
"i hate my face, why do i have to have all this acne"
" i hate my entirety"
then with a smile on her face she left that word behind her, plastered all over her bathroom walls till she once more beckened for it and there it would be again like an anxious dog waiting to be fed, tail waging feriously as that image she had now come to acknowlege as her laughed,
but deep down was covered in the rusty black ash smuged across it by the one word she chose to regurgitate and hurl at it everyday.
Where did her boredom and self hate come from,
To explain more i have to begin from not where it began but from what connects the dots, in conclusion this story i am bestowing upon you it begins in none other than a flashback.
(This story is not about me it is about this girl anonii, i repeat not about me, totally a work of fiction)
(I can hear you judging me it's not about me, everything in here is fiction)
Fiction!!!!
YOU ARE READING
Give Me Cliche Or Give Me Death
General FictionAnonii What kind of love do you want? Anonii: a cliche like the fairy tales A cliche? Anonii: yes, one that's exciting and keeps me on my toes in suspense. And when he walks into my life the world will whisper in my ears this is the one. And i will...
