Sta.sh
She laughs out loud.
Talking to herself.
She's crazy.
She doesn't care though.
She's happy.
She laughs.
She smiles.
This girl is surrounded with her friends.
Happy with her life.
She sighes.
She cries.
She can't cope with the stress.
Stress of work.
Stress of life.
Then the feeling that all of these other feelings simmer to eventually.
Depressed.
Dead.
Down.
Drained.
She wants to scream.
She wants to shout.
She wants to let it all out.
But her anger she must bury.
Otherwise a rampage of spilling out swear words and other vile.
Out of control, reckless and stupid.
Not thinking of consequences.
So look emotionless.
Or 'in a mood' as they call it.
She hates her anger.
She hates her thoughts and feelings.
She hates her looks.
She hates herself.
Selfish.
Selfish.
Selfish.
That's what guilt whispers in her ears.
She cries.
She tries not to infront of people.
She sobs herself to sleep.
She can't help.
She's hopless.
She has no hope.
She's helpless.
Confusion eats away at her brain.
What made her this way?
No answer again...
And then the feeling you rarely see.
Scared.
She is a shivering, quivering child.
Small, lost and naive.
Corroding with anxiety.
Sickened with worry of the things her mind makes up.
Scared to trust, to love, to dream.
To speak her mind, to show her feelings.
And no one can save her...
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And yes this is about me...
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