what's it like to be so disgusted with yourself you can barely stand your own presence in an empty room?
i used to love myself.
i didn't care what other people thought, i wore my hair and clothes how i wanted.
i did me.
slowly, i evolved into this girl who is so concerned with what people thought of her she started to follow the trends, change herself for the sake of being respected.
i still keep trying to change.
keep evolving,
keep learning,
keep growing,
keep up with the world.
it's gratifying sometimes, being complimented.
but through the gradual transition of uncaring, unobservant and oblivious nine-year-old, to aware, anxious teen, i just started to get more and more anmoyed with myself.
who is this girl staring back at me in the mirror?
the girl with black tears running down her sullen cheeks, smudged eyeliner and a broken smile.
if i stare long enough, little me is there, my reflection, fractured and splintering but still smiling.
i'm not the same.
what once was a pure girl has been corrupted into something dark and depressing, an anxious, self-hating monstrous demon.
i can't stand the girl looking back at me, the hollow and traumatized look in her eyes.
she looks haunted.
and i stare back at her, dead in the eye, wondering if i look like that to other people, if they can see my true dark colors, the broken girl underneath the splitting façade.
i'm so done.
so tired.
so disgusted.
