Nov 17 2014, 07:19 AM

I look into the mirror, and I see the tears running down the face of a stranger. My smile mutilated by the words of wicked people in this world. Each insult spat at me is equivalent to a scar on my body. My hair, hacked off and dyed, in hopes of pleasing these social savages. Why must people be so rude? They must want my life to end soon. The days and nights I spent alone in my room looking at the moon, asking for an answer to come soon. Why am I so hated and mistreated, I know not of love, I don't need it. My heart has grown cold, no happiness in my soul. My eyes are clouded by the curtains of the unknown and the vain. Those who have hurt me will soon feel my pain. Gone one day never to return again. Self Written on 11.13.14