Short Story / me
i sometimes hate the way i feel, no one knows what its like to be me. i have dirty hands and i am looking at a glamour magazine filled with beautiful girls. they dont look like me, they are all glamed up in pretty tight skirts and pretty done make-up…though my hands are still dirty. i cant wash away the stains on my cheeks… i have been crying for weeks.. unsure what makes me beautiful.. i question myself daily.. am i pretty?? could i be in a fashion magazine for all them to see me looking pretty and dreaming way wishing they were me?my head hurts and i cant sleep? tears are drained but i still feel like shit tonight… i look in the mirror but only see someone else staring back at me.. its not me, but who is this girl. why does she look the way she does.. why am i so uptight about glamour, i use to think pretty girls didnt bother me.. not its all a joke.. i call them a bitch because they are prettier than me, skinnier than me, and even wear the nicest clothes. i keep thinking tomorrow will be a brand new day to stare over…though i cant… she is still a bitch and my hand will never be clean
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