Hi,
you probably don't even know me that's fine I'm a nobody anyways I sit in the background the one who lurks in the shadows like a forgotten toy. Left out in the cold too long. My skin feels fake on my own body, it's fragile like glass sharp like steel and weak like plastic. If I were to ever fall I would shatter, never able to be rebuilt. If you get too close I will probably cut you; unintentionally of course because I was born as nothing. Lashing out at everyone harming the ones I care about now I am plastic, everything I used to do is fake now mechanical almost. It's become a way of living not that I feel alive. Every day is the same; wake up fake smiles all day, fake laughs, fake interest in the topics. I just feel numb detached from the world, like a two-sided mirror you can't see me but I can see you. What you're really like what you say. Oh! But you don't know I can. Well, I'm good at reading people when I want to. Most the time I'm staring through the mirror. Blankly, no emotion, no feeling, no pulse, no motivation to keep going on, to live in this place anymore, to breathe, to eat, to smile, sing, dance... I just don't feel anything looking through the mirror, but I'm screaming desperately clutching, grasping onto anything that can save me, pull me up out of this black pit of water, to protect me from this black mist lurking behind me, grasping my wrist like shackles tightening every time something good happens in my life. Recreating the pain, making me suffer more, pulling me closer to the water to the end. Because how can I swim when the mist pushes me down and the rocks in my stomach make it harder to stay afloat to fight the tugging, crushing pain of just letting go and sinking into the dark water never to return to finally be just that plastic toy rotting, rusting, decaying away in the background. To be a ghost in a human body, to be a toy with no soul. Why don't I just stop fighting, let go? Because I have someone to fight for. To live for. So until they give up and stop caring like everyone else I won't stop, not till the bitter end. I stare through a two-way mirror I see the truth of you, but you know nothing of me. you see what I want you to see. A girl who still has her spark, her wings to lift her up and carry her away, but she has no spark, her wings were lost long ago. Withered and dead like a flower in fall. The petals wilting, turn brown till gently fluttering to the dying earth. Those are my wings I want them to come back, for my spark to return, my laugh, smile to be real. To be interested again. Now maybe I can, maybe you can save me, bring me back to life. Shatter my mirror and free me from my bonds. To help me feel alive again... One can only hope.
Sincerely, Nobody.
-Kirsten