Words.

Empathy

I saw a woman on the television.

Her name was Pepper.

They called her pinhead.

She was beautiful to me.

But to others she was a monster wearing a bow.

Her life was filled with loneliness.

She was an outcast.

But she was beautiful.

She lost everyone she loved.

She had a soul so pure.

She had a smile so sincere.

But no one else saw that.

They locked her away.

Kept her in the dark while the truly wicked skipped along.

She's innocent.

Here is where I relate.

She is alone.

So am I.

In a world so full of life.

I feel dead.

Physically I am alive.

Mentally I am dead.

I have been for quite some time.

Forced to play the part of a happy living human when I feel like a spirit forced to endure the horror of living in a body that isn't my own.

The face I see in the mirror scares me.

All the screaming, shaming and blaming.

Everything is playing over and over in my head and I hate it.

I don't feel sympathy anymore.

It's all empathy.

I can relate to almost any sob story.

Even the ones where the victims don't understand why.

I hate the way we are judged.

I hate the way we are forced to live and think that everything we do has to be perfect.

But I like messing up.

I like mistakes.

I like telling people how much I don't care.

I will not change myself for you.

And I expect others to feel the same way.

Like Pepper, I am confused.

As to why the world is so cruel to someone who just doesn't understand.

I feel empathy.