Description
She sits on the edge of her chair waiting for the opportunity to jump. She doesn't feel comfortable with all of these people she hardly feels comfortable in her own skin, no not hardly, not at all. Her reflection is the nightmare she will never wake up from, her reflection is the one who screams ugly, fat, stupid the loudest. She pierces and Tattoos her skin in a pitiful attempt to mask herself but no matter how many needles she injects in her skin she knows she will never be able to control the pain that rains and swishes in her heart. But the real show here is the smile she holds so diligently on her face almost like it was painted on with one of her own paint brushes. You wouldn't recognize her on the street, you wouldn't recognize her in school or at a party because her laughs and jokes and fake concede would fog up the mirror and like most all, even her closest friends look past it instead of trying to clean the glass. But this she's use to, even her perspective on things has to be hidden because she knows kids are snakes and any sudden movement could be her last. She's always so confused because she's to afraid to tell her tales for the fear that they may be crazy and she would be crazy, they would all think she was crazy. So instead she kept quite and wondered quietly to herself as she sketched out the people around her. She so often wondered what they were thinking wishing she could read minds only for one day and then maybe she'd understand. But she knew better than most that you don't always get what you want and wanting was different from needing, so she focused more on needing because anything else always ended in disappointment.
She Who Sings- One
