when i look into the mirror i don't see myself anymore.
its not a girl with grey-blue eyes and blonde hair staring back at me. its not a girl who throws around smiles like they're words.
its someone who has scars on her skin and hollowness in her eyes, whose painful emotions are greater than the voyaging seas. it someone who has blood in her mouth and shattered bones, who's slowly drowning in the agonising sadness coughed up and given to her by this unforgiving reality.
its someone who has claws for hands and glass for skin, who has the ability to shatter others, but also the ability to be shattered. its someone who has tar in her veins and lead in her blood, who sees herself as a monster.
and i guess that’s what everyone else sees too. because in life, that girl is pushed around and knocked over by waves of anger and disgust. she is ignored and the centre of attention at the same time. no one gives her the chance to hurt, to cry, to scream.
because after all, the girl staring back at me is a monster, a non-human, and why would a creature like her feel pain? how could one who hurts others, possibly be hurting?