The Girl They Want

I keep telling myself—

Why are you like this?

I don’t want to be this way.

Please, please—do something.

Crying, shaking, breaking—

Why can’t you be the girl they want?

Why do they always have to remind you—

to see them, to follow, to change?

Why don’t you just do what they say?

Why can’t you be enough?

But… what should I do?

I have no path, no place to go.

They took that from me.

They took my dreams,

ripped them from my hands,

left me standing in the dark.

I don’t want to live this life.

Not like this.

I whisper to myself—

Just become like them.

Maybe then, they will love you.

Maybe then, they will stay.

But no matter how many times I try,

no matter how much I change,

they don’t love me back.

And I cry. Again.

And again.

Then—

"Hey, hey… listen."

"Don’t make a sound."

"What if they hear you?"

"What if they see you?"

"They will get hurt."

I stare at the mirror.

My hands wipe away the tears,

but they keep falling.

"Why are you crying?"

"Don’t."

But the girl in the mirror—

She stares back.

Her eyes scream,

but no one hears.

She looks at me, broken,

and I look away.

Because if I meet her gaze,

if I acknowledge her pain,

she will shatter.

And so will I.

But for a second—

our eyes lock.

And she cries.

And I wonder—

What kind of life is this?

If I tell them what they do to me,

they will hurt.

If I stay silent,

it will kill me from the inside.

So I choose to hurt myself instead.

Because that way,

at least no one else gets hurt.

But deep down, I wonder—

Is this really living?