I am not an Amazement
People do not look at me and find gold
I am a blank canvas and Empty
And there are no stars inside because everything
Exists outside of me
I’m Mad because I do not like how I caught your eye
You thought I was Beautiful
But now your eyes have faded so they can’t see this far
And so my Beauty goes unnoticed and my scars are red
I’m a Scared, pessimistic girl
With no headspace for dreams
A lot of life doesn’t exist in my world
And it feels like the trees are blocking me
Like the curtains are drawn to keep you from seeing inside of me
Like the artists don’t want to paint me anymore
Like I am stuck staring at the mirror in my bedroom that used to give me nightmares
Like in my dreams I keep asking people who have died
If they would come back to life
And every time they tell me No, I don’t deserve that anymore
No, I don’t deserve that anymore
I like to think I don’t deserve the bad things anymore
Like I am a sculpture that’s been glued to the ground
Where I cannot stop people from staring
What if I don’t want to be seen?
What if I want to be read
What if I want to be felt
For the things you can’t touch?
But they keep carving me down to a figure
They keep painting over the parts where I used to bleed
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
I am not an Amazement
People do not look at me and find gold
I am a blank canvas and Empty
And there are no stars inside because everything
Exists outside of me
I’m Mad because I do not like how I caught your eye
You thought I was Beautiful
But now your eyes have faded so they can’t see this far
And so my Beauty goes unnoticed and my scars are red
I’m a Scared, pessimistic girl
With no headspace for dreams
A lot of life doesn’t exist in my world
And it feels like the trees are blocking me
Like the curtains are drawn to keep you from seeing inside of me
Like the artists don’t want to paint me anymore
Like I am stuck staring at the mirror in my bedroom that used to give me nightmares
Like in my dreams I keep asking people who have died
If they would come back to life
And every time they tell me No, I don’t deserve that anymore
No, I don’t deserve that anymore
I like to think I don’t deserve the bad things anymore
Like I am a sculpture that’s been glued to the ground
Where I cannot stop people from staring
What if I don’t want to be seen?
What if I want to be read
What if I want to be felt
For the things you can’t touch?
But they keep carving me down to a figure
They keep painting over the parts where I used to bleed
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