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I sense the Scorching stares Crawling distressingly From head to sole, Baring the superficial; Unsolicited glances Pierce skin to core, Tormenting the soul, Inches to whole.
I'm a true, free spirit. Although it's rarely shown. I'm free inside, and that's what counts. My heart has truly flown. I have a quiet spirit. I have qualities that are rare to see.
They joke. As if it's funny. As if it's stupid. As if they're right. They say it. With disgust. With pride. With belief. Reminds me of. My sister. My home. My past. The single word. Echoes in my mind.
Do you know the feeling.
She hid behind frosted thick glass, Not wanting to be seen, just wanting to be passed. Hiding away her face, her soul... Unwilling to be hurt, by the boys that are bold.
School can be a horrible place. No, school is a horrible place.
{Chorus} Left or right. Dark of light. Right or wrong. Silence or song Right or left. Base or cleft. Curved or straight. Now or wait.
The mirror shone before me, highlighting my every flaw. My tears run even when it's gone, and I can't help but turn away. They say that 77% girls think their ugly.
You call me. 'Miss Perfection'. Flirt, hug. Love and affection. Ask for my number. You get disappointed. But not discouraged. At the moment. Ask again. Ask me why. 'Cause I chose so.
People try to sum up their life,. With songs, words or pictures,. But if your mind is partly complex,. I guess it would be a mixture,. Not one line can describe me,. No word is perfectly right,.
@LittleKitten #mirror #youngwritershousehold Mirror mirror, This mirror mimicks Every single move Mirror mirror, Who is hiding On the other side of you. Mirror mirror, How does she look.
I have an open mind. I accept people for who they are.
#youngwritershousehold. Two red dots smeared on my lips,. White powder polishes my cheeks,. A pink tutu pulled up to my hips,. And my French perfume reeks,. My hair pulled tightly by a ring,.
In the morning sun. With the air so cold. You hug yourself tighter. Or dress up nice and warm. Autumn is here. So the leaves are falling. The birds are calling. They'll soon leave for winter.
She sits in the window. With her ruby painted lips. Red light shining down. Swaying her voluptuous hips. Programmed to please. They stop and stare. Marvel at her sensuality.
"Dad I'm home. (Pause) What are you talking about. I told you I had drama rehearsal after school today. (Pause) You know… you could at least try to hide your disapproval.
Over the past weeks we have been talking about what drama is. We have talked about acting, and being an ensemble. What we haven't talked about is what drama is to us individually.
Tell me that I'm something. I'll convince you that I'm not. An orange on the outside. With the inside left to rot. An ever present cover. To disguise the world from truth. Walls on every side.
.
I want to feel like I belong, Somewhere safe, A feeling that isn't wrong. Warmth is a stranger to me, Never feeling comfortable, Or that I can leave myself be.
Back on your map A bleep on your radar Sign above my head Seen from a far. Whys this only just happened. What has changed now. Why am I suddenly visible. I'm not well endowed. My face is the same.
I got accepted into a new school. I started tuesday. I've been there a week. I barely knew anyone. I'm so happy about that. no one knows me. it's a fresh batch of people. they don't know me.
Fuzzy round the edges. I'm a little teddy bear. My heart is too large. Sometimes too much for people to bare. I express my feelings through words. But I'm not necessarily heard.
Look at me - What do you see. Is it vacant eyes, A mouth capturing lies. Or a warm heart, Laughter lines like art, A gentle smile, Or a glare to run a mile.