Charades

She walks with her head held high, 

But what's missing is the spark in her eyes, 

Her heels click and her jacket shines. 

The hair is so perfect and so is her smile. 

Mirror staring back is the only witness

All she craves is less of this bitterness

She powders her nose and pinches her cheeks 

All smiles for the camera when the girls say cheese 

She feels an itch, but she cant scratch it 

Her body aches but still she dances 

The whiskey and water, that most boys wont dare 
She laughs loud and pretends to care

She has to be strong because she cant cry

Tears just don't come to her eyes 

A drag of her Malboro

She is good to go

A conversation snippet here and there but she is too lost in her mind to care. Her cigarette's ash falls on the new dress. She doesn't give a damn because its not real. If it burnt her soul, she would feel it, but its just the clothes and she has more. She notices, when they notice her not noticing the burn, and quickly calls herself clumsy.

How much can make them enjoy her company? Its all an act and it may just be the final scene. She doesn't belong in her mind, let alone here. Why are the lights so bright and the girls with too much makeup? 

Casually, they remind her, 

You're one of us and not a stranger. 

She doesn't know what more to do, like a ticker on a time bomb, her head is ready to explode.

She is not afraid to say anything on her mind, yet at times she is tongue-tied. That's who she is and has always been. But is she still that now? All she wants is to let go and live free but she is a prisoner inside her own body. A faint scar under her chin, her fingers touche it and move back to flip her hair. Its like her brain is playing games with her. 

Not a look, not a murmur
Not a single one around her can know it's back
Her eyes scream but her lips curve up
She is scared, so she keeps it locked up 


Laughing so hard, it makes those tears finally come to her eyes. She covers them up by calling him funny. He takes a bow and asks her to dance, she politely refuses and points to her friend. 

She is afraid, her soul will slip through with her jokes and laughter. It is a strained cry of despair. 

The night is young so she shuts herself off, pretending, again this time, that this is where she belongs. 

But she needs to save herself, before she falls down again because now she knows it's only herself messing with her head.

Days

To put this life into words seems easy. When you sit down to do it you cant remember why you sat down to write about it at first. 

You dont remember the day you were brought into the world. Yet everyone around you does. They laugh and scream and want a piece of you. You're never actually a part of it. 

And nobody will remember your last day except you. They'll mourn and cry. But they'll never be a part of it.

 Its messed up, isn't it?

The day your life starts you dont know, and the day it ends nobody else knows.

Flick, already!

For some odd reason i thought that after turning 18, my life would magically change. Like Cinderella's! Once the slipper fits she'd be living the perfect life! But I'm still the same. Although, with softer hair because of the eggs smashed on my head. But, nevertheless, I am still the same.

The week before the birthday was shit.

The week after was shit.

And probably the weeks after this week will be shit too.

And now i could list a million things that went wrong. A week before "my big day" to today, a week after it.

But i wont. Because the day that mattered the most was awesome.

I had 3 cakes, 3 different sets of friends all with me that day and everything seemed so perfect!

But when the night ended it really didn't seem like anything was different. And the celebration of turning 18 seemed insignificant.

I was Cinderella in my head again, not wearing the slipper now. Just the clock striking midnight. My cart and horses turned back into a pumpkin and rats.

The bottom line is, one day cant change your life. Turning 18 wont flick a switch in my brain. Even though i really want something to flick.. 

I need my stars to seriously stop vacationing now and come to the rescue when i need them.

So God. Please flick that switch. Soon? Please?