And just for thought...
You only receive half my story but you assume too much,
preaching to me how I should lead my life
and belittling my aspirations.
So, my dreams do not meet your standards.
Does that make you better than me?
You know nothing of the stress that eats me alive
because all you see of my life is superficial bullshit.
Do you really want to know why my eyes blankly stare?
Or why I suddenly switch from rage to defeat?
You would not care even if I decided to pour out my soul to you.
You would offer me some sorry show of sympathy
but I don't want your half assed sympathy.
What would you say if I explained to you the fear and hate that drive me?
If I told you one night some asshole destroyed my entire life?
Caused me to lose everything and everyone I loved?
Causes me to become this empty shell who will do anything to feel full?
I became this empty shell who will do anything to not feel this way,
feeling unlike every other person in this fucking world.
You would tell me that everyone is different, wouldn't you?
It all happened in the past and I should just move on, right?
You have no idea.
My small dreams may be just that
but you have no right to judge.
At the end of the day, I'm just a girl who has been in love with writing her entire life. I am full of quirks, anxieties, fears, joys, laughter. And all I have wanted to do was give the world a smile.