A great concept, always close but always far.
I often think to myself, what if I could be her?
She’s thin, and her waist dips in like a crescent moon, whilst I remain a paper weight, stuck in one place by a decided hand.
What I would do to be her, to see the shining lights of a city, and claim the road with a sense of adventure.
But I am stuck here, in the assertive limbo, waiting to grow into a woman, one whom is not scared of the public eye and has the world at her feet.
The confidence within me just not exist, instead, this transparency lingers, showcasing the vulnerabilities that rattle around inside.
People use it to their advantage; they use me.
I am not a game, you cannot rock the boat with me on board, roll the dice and just ignore the consequences.
Do you not see the pain that echoes from my tearful eyes, or do you just not care? It is impossible to be certain of anything, especially when you pretend to be somebody else.
But I am the same, I put on this mask on a daily basis, hoping to change what habits beneath the lacklustre scars and the fuzzy head.
My dreams haunt me, but so do images of you, and all that you have caused.
Finally, I have realised, that I do not wish to be her anymore. The surface is deceiving, but now I have seen the ferocious monster beneath.
I guess I will just stay existing as me - for now.
