July 29, 2005

Broken mirrors

I'm so tired of being loved as a concept. I feel like I'm only good to someone because of my differences from everything they might know. There is a girl under here. There is a brain, there are thoughts, and there is a soul that yearns for essentially the same things as everyone else.

I'm not just a painted face, and I'm definitely not just the Shakespeare that I quote. You won't find the truth of me within my stripy stockings, and my black lipgloss is only there for effect. I'm different and that makes me beautiful but there are still things within me that are ugly and broken. Things that I don't deal with and things that don't talk about. They are my dirty little secrets that I love to throw in your face when it seems convienient.

You just... I just... I don't want to be... I feel so lost in your arms and I no longer find comfort there. I don't think I ever did.

Have a nice day with someone else.

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