My fingers lay upon my keys waiting for a response from my mind.
My eyes trace the body and face.
A photograph. Who is that little girl?
That little chubby girl with the glasses. She's smiling.
Why is that? Because she's being told to say "cheese"?
No.
Because she didn't have to pretend
everything was okay or everything was perfect.
Because to her, there was no such thing as drama or bullshit.
What the hell was that to her? Nothing.
Where everybody's mind's were numbed
and didn't understand how others were different.
Idiots, right? You look at little kids
and say to yourself: "Just wait 'til they grow up
everything is going to change."
Sometimes I wish that people like me didn't have to act all the time
and others didn't look at you and say you're different.
Don't you ever wish people didn't have to look at you in disgust
because you aren't like them?
Sometimes I wish I could be that girl in the photo.
That stupid little girl, that stupid carefree girl.
I sketched out something. I think you'll hate it.
It's good.
Conceited? Yes. Lying? Yes.
