Sometimes she'd stare at e-mails or written out posts online, a gasp might escape her already tightened throat. It doesn't take a genius to see whats been said and how these imaginary blows manage to leave bruises on her soul. She's fallen down so many times, there have been tears, so much tears, escaping her pained eyes. It's so hard to breathe.
It's hard for anyone to look straight at her without feeling guilty. She blames herself for all the problems, maybe if she wasn't so different from others, if she wasn't so direct, so straight to the point, so ruthless to what she wanted, then maybe they might have showed a little bit more of understanding. Unfortunately, she wasn't. It was who she was, it was how she was brought up. Her parents never beat around the bush -- they've always told her to speak her mind. Honesty is the best policy. Sure, but when is anyone going to help you when the right time comes?
She thought she could start over, since it was suppose to be her last year in this not-so-forgiving town. She stopped going to various events, distanced herself, kept away so that the heartless comments about her might keep at bay. But no, someone unzipped their mouth.. out came the spills. Who was she to stop this? No one. She had no control over any one's mind, or mouth. What hurts most though, is that given the circumstances, even if they weren't fond of her, they should have given her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was going to be different. Maybe she was not going to interfere. Maybe she was just going to stay away. Maybe they should have allowed others to decide for themselves.
Another ghost slaps across her face. She touches her cheek, she can taste the saltiness of her tears. She wails uncontrollably. Of all people, with all her good intentions -- misintrepeted from wrong understandings, lies and fabrications. "Deal with it," she tells herself. She struggles to break free from the weight of deception. Sigh.
Help me.
It's hard for anyone to look straight at her without feeling guilty. She blames herself for all the problems, maybe if she wasn't so different from others, if she wasn't so direct, so straight to the point, so ruthless to what she wanted, then maybe they might have showed a little bit more of understanding. Unfortunately, she wasn't. It was who she was, it was how she was brought up. Her parents never beat around the bush -- they've always told her to speak her mind. Honesty is the best policy. Sure, but when is anyone going to help you when the right time comes?
She thought she could start over, since it was suppose to be her last year in this not-so-forgiving town. She stopped going to various events, distanced herself, kept away so that the heartless comments about her might keep at bay. But no, someone unzipped their mouth.. out came the spills. Who was she to stop this? No one. She had no control over any one's mind, or mouth. What hurts most though, is that given the circumstances, even if they weren't fond of her, they should have given her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was going to be different. Maybe she was not going to interfere. Maybe she was just going to stay away. Maybe they should have allowed others to decide for themselves.
Another ghost slaps across her face. She touches her cheek, she can taste the saltiness of her tears. She wails uncontrollably. Of all people, with all her good intentions -- misintrepeted from wrong understandings, lies and fabrications. "Deal with it," she tells herself. She struggles to break free from the weight of deception. Sigh.
Help me.
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