#april10of2015
I don't wish for many things from others.
But I do wish the most from myself.
I wish I could play the guitar, the piano,
the ukulele, the violin, the cello; as many
instruments as I possibly can.
I wish I had amazing grades, like 90's
and 100's on all of my educational
classes; and that I had joined the PAP and
AP courses sooner in order to impress
colleges and universities.
I wish I was more slim than I am now,
and that I had attractive curves - not as
in oversized ******* but as in nice
curves on my stomach, legs and arms.
I wish I was pretty, as in big beautiful
and attractive eyes, soft and colored
(not pale) lips, clear skin free of acne
and ****** hair, long and luscious and
silky hair, soft skin, and a cute nose.
I wish I was a nice sister, one who
didn't ignore her siblings, who
interacted with them and got along
with them greatly.
I wish I was an amazing daughter and
family member, one who didn't argue
and wasn't distant from her parents, who
visited her family members frequently
and was sociable with them all.
I wish I had the best personality, one that
didn't ignore her friends and family, one
that always made people smile and laugh,
one that was sweet & nice to everyone,
one that was perfect.
I wish I was perfect.
Too bad they're all wishes.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 4:41 PM UTC
We all wear skin.
We all wear clothes (or at least I hope all of us do).
We all wear expressions.
We all wear similar tastes.
We all wear differing preferences.
And we all wear masks.
One thing we all without
a doubt wear, are masks.
You wear one.
I wear one.
Mine has smiles plastered
on it all the time; it has joy;
laughter; contentment; humor;
happiness; wholesomeness;
confidence; courage; and
life on it.
It looks so pretty.
It covers the frowns;
tears; sorrow; longing;
self-consciousness; fear;
discontent; angst; anxiety;
self-loathing; and the death
that haunts my soul.
What does yours wear?
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
I want to cry.
I'm sad.
I want to die.
I'm not the person,
I so badly want to be.
I'm capable of being
someone better; but you see...
I don't try.
I'm disappointed in myself
because I look in the mirror & lie
to myself everyday, falsely assuring
myself that I'm content and alright.
But I want to play the guitar,
sing, dance, draw; anything but fight
a battle I don't try enough to win.
I want to cook, be pretty, smile,
be perfect & popular, but while
I sit here, wistfully typing and wishing,
my chances to change are slowly finishing.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC