chapter 1
the scars on you.
dear young lady;-
I don't understand why you're like this. you care about everyone. you simply can't see someone sad without trying to cheer them up. why. why do you care soo much. It's none of your business, to be honest. you always took it to a personal level, anyone's sadness was equivalent to your own. you'd do your best to make them okay, instinctively. you're asked "why do you care" an ignorant response is your gibbly answer.
yet although you always care, no-one does when you're in pain, when you're sad, when you're the one who needs affection. you were always such a good actress, pretending to be utterly fine. you even fooled your own flesh. either that or people didn't care enough to read through your lies.
your selflessness led to your own destruction. you rewarded yourself with the title of a punching bag. a sponge that soaks in everyone's sorrows and locks it in. don't you know you're not hurting anyone but yourself. "as long as everyone's okay I'm fine" you used to say, but you were never forced to sacrifice yourself.
you're committing suicide everyday this way, and you don't even notice that you're slowly killing yourself.
YOU ARE READING
letters to a girl
Nouvellesa girl who went through a lot and people around never noticed. until one day, she exhaled her feelings along with confessions that rose hell.
