As I lay awake looking at the ceiling, only visible due to the fluorescent moon light, I let my mind wonder into the deepest, darkest parts that usually remain untouched. I begin to look out the window, that stands positioned beside my bed, and imagine what it would be like to be on somebody else's mind. I try to imagine someone actually considering me in their thoughts. I feel a rush of sadness wash over my tired body. I close my eyes and submit to my brain. The first thing it begins to do is remember those famous, 'what if' questions. I suddenly feel a warm wet dear from run down the side of my face. The tear was so small but it seemed to almost burn it's markings across my skin. Feeling the warmth of my bed almost swallowing me whole, I decide to stay where I am st the moment. I willingly let it drip to reach the cover of my cloud like pillow beside my head. I open my eyes only to find my vision blurred with tears like the first one that called down my pale face. I slightly move upright into a sitting, criss cross, position on my bed and I rub my fingers through my here just gently scratching my scalp.Why won't it stop? I ask myself silently. I carefully move the covers and get out of my bed. Cautious not to make a sound, I walk to my mirror af the front of my room. I stare at this person who I do not know that I call my reflection. I sit there pondering about more questions such as: why can I be pretty?, or the classical one, why should I be here? Oh those famous words... I bite my lip as I attempt to hold in my cries for help or acceptance from myself. I seem to be trapped inside my own mind. A labyrinth that I must figure out. I stare into my own broken eyes emotionlessly. what are you waiting for? I glance down at my feet and noticed my night shirt soaked and my face burning from the trails my heavy tears left. I imagine my mother. I imagine how strong and independent she is. And for a split second I smile. Until a more deadly wave of pain hits me. All I can think are these words. Im nothing like her... I crawl back helplessly into my bed and picture myself as being what everyone wants me to be ,and for a moment once more, I smile. Next thing I know it was morning and I had to get ready for another restless day. Having to force a smile to prove that I am stronger when I am really broken on the inside.

    Moral of the story. Behind every beautiful smile, is a beautifully broken story...

    I WARNED YOUUU(don't worry I'm alright this is past difficulties)

  • Damn Abbs! You are doing it again! But I'm just saying you are very beautiful!

  • @abby-83 hey those are common feelings, and everyone has doubts about themselves. It's ok to think that way, but just know you're lying to yourself when it happens.

  • @us-poet thank you it means a lot!

  • @boots22 😂 Okay boots