Dear Reflection.Dear Reflection:
The strange thing is, you've always thought yourself beautiful.
It's only recently that you began to think that you weren't the only one.
Make mental note to thank him for being so persistent.
Tuck the edge of the towel in around your body and step out of the shower. Turn to face the full-length mirror. See the marks on your face, the battle scars of a war you're still fighting with acne, every teenager's closest companion. In the time between fourth grade and the present, many a battleground has been fought upon, ranging up your back, shoulders, chest and face.
Hate the sight, and laugh at the silly fact that after seven years, you actually still care.
Irish blood speaks to your appearance, but not in the ways you wish it did. Wet, nearly black hair hangs, unbrushed, halfway down your back. Know that when it dries it will not turn to the springy ginger curls your foreign cousins sport so proudly, but rather into something plain and brown that more often than not resem
Mythomania + Simple FoolishnesDearest (and Most Estranged) Self:
Let's be honest for a while; perhaps a page length or two.
You're weak (or are you saying that to be strong?).
You're cowardly (or do you write that in order to feel brave?)
You'd do anything to be accepted (what happened to being your own person?).
You're writing this because it's got to be done (or do you just want people to like you?).
You have no idea who you are (yeah, because you're scared of what you'd find).
Pathological fears are kind of your thing.
You fear rejection, but only because you fear the unknown.
Manipulation is the definition of your existence. You don't even have the balls to face real rejection; you just force yourself into self-generated nonacceptance because you are THAT pathetically obsessed with controlling every aspect of your life.
Because you fear pain.
Because you really just need to grow up.
Face the facts. You're only writing this because you want to seem... complicated (or are you saying that because you're so
Suppressed reality fades
Outspoken when speaking, but talking by the dreamweaver's string.
while screaming out at the inward invariance-
because grayscale is a bloodthirsty Bliss.