Please, if you don’t care, then don’t talk to me, why do you still talk to me when you no longer care? Why do you hurt me so? You walk the world thinking you are happy, smiling politely at those in front of you, but on the inside you cry and you begin to shatter like the broken mirror in your room. You look into the shattered mirror and see your shattered soul. Your hand lightly places to the cracks on it, as it slides across the imperfectness. You smile as you watch the blood run down your hand, then the tears come out. You slide your hand across it then look at your hideous hand, it disgust you with the way it looks. The flesh peeling up exposing the muscle below, the blood that runs down your arm. Funny, your hideous hand reminds you of yourself. The ugliness you have, the hatred in your eyes, the sadness in your heart. You hold yourself tightly, cradled in your own cold arms, as you try to convince yourself of things that are untrue, you silently whisper “I am pretty, I am beautiful, they just can’t see it yet,” but you can’t fool anyone. They stare at you, they laugh at you, why are they so cruel? Why must they hurt me so much?
Then a hand reaches towards you as your crouching in the corner crying to yourself, “Its okay, your fine just the way you are.” Their warm voice begins to light up the world, the sadness is now gone and so is the loneliness. Where did they go? Then you look out a window and see the two black crows flying away, the sadness is gone and so is the loneliness. You let this person get close, and you begin to become attached. Then the day comes, they leave you. Just like all the rest, they’re no different, you realize that now. You became a nuisance, now you break them off completely. They are no longer in your heart, as is no one. No one exist, no one can touch you. They cannot touch your heart, or anything weak that is in you. They can touch your delicate skin, but they will not affect your heart. Do you even have a heart? So much time has passed now it is unlikely, you are so ugly, you’re disgusting, but I am pretty, I am beautiful.
You are just a sad excuse for a life, why do you still exist? It longer matters anymore, your just living to live, it’s too late because you have lost your motivation, your pride, your dignity, when will I find it again? You walk to a perfect mirror and look in the mirror, it is you, and it is I. we are one in the same, we are beautiful and yet our souls are ugly. We are scared yet our skin is still has no marks. We are one and we are the same. We shall no longer let people into our happiness, we will cherish every moment of it when we get it, and the two crows will come to visit often until we disappear and reappear in a sealed chamber letting us rest peacefully, and all alone. Under the mother earth, under the roots and grass, and under the stone on top of us marked “R.I.P.”