Run, away

What if they were?
Or if I wasn’t...
if he isn’t...
if if if
I feel nothing like that for them so why should they feel anything for me?
conceited, conceited, conceited
Stop it.
Dumb little girl, thinking your absurd thoughts that are never nice or good or you.
but they are, oh they are.
Everyone sees the lovely, perfect, funny you and that’s what they expect.

Don’t get angry silly child, it’s an ugly emotion for you
Don’t get stressed silly child, everything should come easy for you
Don’t be human silly child, human emotions don’t belong to you


You should be crazy, above it all, alien
No sorrow, no fear, nothing but fun and giggles
comments that make everyone laugh.
that’s what you do, stick to it.
Write your private stories,
the ones with anger and fear,
privately.
Let your emotions bleed onto you paper so
your lovely
perfect
funny
self can stay on the outside.

Masks of many shapes and sizes
each one some form of good feelings
“I love my life”
“It gets better after this, is that even possible?”
stupid giggle
Life can’t get better
It can get worse.