it's easy to criticize people
for how they deal with pressure.
but it's important to realize that pressure,
like people, come in all different shapes, colors, and sizes;
they affect people differently.
because he doesn't drink just to drink.
and she doesn't smoke just to smoke.
they're trying to forget how broken they are inside.
trying anything to escape their minds.
escape their lives.
and, at the end of the day, that's all we want to do too.

We've all imagined
Wedding dresses and vails
growing up
losing our pig-tails and overalls
trading them in for
beach waves and crop tops
only for the person in our
Reflection
to turn into a complete
s t r a n g e r

staring blank faced at a girl you can't recognize anymore
drawing imaginary lines on our bodies with our eyes
cutting away the imperfections with
our hands shaped as
scissors,

wishing
we could look like
the models in the magazines
or
the actresses on the tv screens
But, society tells us
we can Never be
Skinny
enough
Never be
Pretty
enough
That our features will
NEVER
be
Good
e n o u g h

Because the girl in the mirror who has lost all hope
can Never amount to
what we have been taught from the time we could
walk and talk
what beautiful is;

We went from carefree children
to teens who are
depressed and anxious
all the time
most of us addicted to Nicotine and Alcohol
our parents tell us to smile and quit with the attitudes
but behind closed doors we criticize ourselves
enough

The little girl in her pigtails
playing with everyone on the playground
so innocent
so pure
get labeled as a racist
in the 6th grade because her skin is white

By the time she enters high school
she knows better than to state an opinion,
the teachers know Best,
never stand up to a man,
he's superior to you,
even when behind the closed doors
he touches you when you say STOP
but you know better than to say something
cause you had to have wanted it,
take it as a compliment,
it just means you're pretty

if you say anything you'll be labeled as a
W h o r e
if you keep quiet it's an invitation for
M o r e

people asking
"why do you flinch at a simple touch?"
how do you explain years of torment to a complete
s t r a n g e r,
you don't, you smile and act dumb

pretty is a vocabulary word to describe anyone
but the girl that is seen in the mirror
because she is
Not
Good
e n o u g h
and she knows that

she has lost friends cause she can't trust them

she changes her style monthly

trying sooo hard just to be
accepted
she doesn't remember
the little girl in pigtails,
she doesn't remember
what a real smile looks like,
the pain behind her eyes
c l o u d s
her reality
the voice in her head telling her
"you're eating too much"
"you're an idiot"
"you'll never amount to anything"
and she
s     l     o     w     l    y
fades away
til there is nothing left
to put back together
cause her mind and heart are
s c   a   t t e  r e     d
aimlessly
shes numb and she
thinks, this is what happiness feels like
no more pain
no more criticizing
No, more
pretending to be okay

“It’s becoming tougher to love you every time you hurt me. It’s becoming tougher to trust you every time you betray me. It’s becoming tougher to be vulnerable every time you exploit me. It’s becoming tougher to lend you my heart when it feels like an open wound in your hand. You taunt me every opportunity you find, brag about my flaws occasionally, criticize and act cold at times. I am tired of visiting the restroom as though it is my sanctuary during occasions, shedding tears and walk out numbing my heart. We ought to be encouraging, loving and supporting one another and not pushing the other down to rise. But the heartaches are becoming often and old wounds are being reopened. It’s becoming tiring to experience it over and over again. I guess for it to not hurt anymore, it shouldn’t matter anymore.”

Before you criticise
yourself for the love parted with others
that have gone to vain
gaze at the moon that has been there
embracing everyone with the shaft of light
but never able to retrieve the love from others.
©shadeofalonely_girl

Loquacious hypocrite,
to your own misery.
Criticize internally

Obsequious narcissist,
to your own false idol.
No love to be found there

You can’t beguile us
For the swirling voices,
no longer bask in our glow