I'd like to think of myself as a chameleon
But the good type...
I'm not one who blends in with every crowd, who matches my appearance to fit in with those around me
I'm the one who blends in so well you don't see me
I become invisible
After all, it's just a defense mechanism
Who can judge me if I can't be seen...if I'm not even there?

I run
I let my heart pound, my legs burn, my feet ache
I let the music blast in my ears
To drown out my thoughts
I keep my hands swinging by my sides in fists
To keep them from doing something else
My feet slam against the sand
That threatens to swallow me whole
The waves crash against my legs
Threatening to pull me under
But I keep running
Literally and mentally
I run from my problems
I run from the people I love
I run from my thoughts
So when I finally collapse in the hot sand
And my earbuds fall out
And the sand caves in around me as water surrounds me
I realize
No matter how much I run
I can't escape

But I get up
And I run                                                        -G

I let no one call me pretty
I can't
It hurts to much
Maybe it's because I know it's a lie
Or maybe it's because I know I'd be naive to believe it
Whenever the phrase is said
I think of my yellow teeth
The prominent pimples
My nonexistent curves
And wonder what the hell it is they see
Or, what they don't see
What they don't know
They don't know how many times I've just looked in the mirror
And cried at what I saw
They don't know how many times I've tried starving myself
Just to loose those few pounds
They don't know how many times I've thought
About ending it all

I'm not pretty
So it's better if we all accept it now
So I don't have to go through this monologue again
For the second time today                                              -G