I Actually Don't want to be me.
I want to be her.
She's perfect.
She has him.
But, then again.
She takes everything to the heart.
She lies.
I don't take anything to the heart. Is that good or bad?
I don't lie.
But, she is the kind of girl.
Who gets everything.
No matter what.
Everyone thinks her art is amazing.
What about mine?
I can't draw
I can't paint
I can't dance
I have no talent.
But I have one.
You see that look I put on my face?
The one that says thats something is wrong, but no worry, I can solve it?
That is my talent.
My art of lies of the face.
I see now.
That she is me, but different.
She let everything anyone said.
Go in her.
While I, took nothing.
The heartless, cold, loner with many friends.
So, look in my eyes, beautiful other.
See my look?
It looks like my problem is
very simple.
Like, a hard math problem?
Too bad, this 'math problem' goes like this.
Me + Me + Music + Me + Silence + Me +Alone + Me + Saddness + Me + Witty
No equal sign.
Why so many Me?
Because, Only I am aloud in my mind.
The walls I have.
Are stronger then steel.
See me?
See the screams I scream?
See my talents?
See my insaintiy?
All because of the person of perfection.
I can't go back.
Too many demons.
So, what to do?
Change?
I will never.
I like myself.
One thing she doesn't have.