Inside Her Dreams

Often I've thought that my imagination would get the best of me. I create relationships and friendships in my mind that won't happen or can't happen, just to feel the joy of the moment. How I have wished since before I was in high school for some of these things to happen to me. Friend sleepovers, friends in my house in general, a boy who was devoted to me the way I've seen my friends boyfriends see them to take them to school and pick them up. Everything was forced when it did happen. I can't say anything bad or traumatic happened to me, but when things did happen, they were too little too late. I feel as though my life was full of drama, but maybe because I wasn't happy. I was too entrapped of the ideas and wishes that I had in my head, that my real life was horrible, lonely, and boring in comparison. I needed to shake things up and make things interesting, whether I ruined my life or other people's lives. I lived so jealous of what these other girls had- they really were girls, while I was something in between girl and boy, not completely feminine, and not masculine either. No one told me I was pretty, and when they did, it sounded like the barks and calls of dogs. My few friends from high school moved away, and my friends outside, I barely see. I told someone who I liked once, "I'm not your friend anymore, but that doesn't mean I won't run your memory dry with stories in my mind. I'll let my mind wander until I'm over you." Romance was always just so scary. Not like I was given the liberty to experience it. Friendship, my mother always told me, was overrated. My boyfriend, can be great, but the idea of romance was burned off of his soul years ago, if it was ever there. So why do I feel like I missed out on something? Why am I so lonely? Maybe my dreams are just the thing that keeps me down from being happy. I've always been the person to see the glass half empty.

Mirror

And the girl who told her reflection to never give up
Gives in
Her soul will keep chipping away until it's just a particle of dust
Floating
"I won the battle I've fought for years now
But that did not end without casualties"
Yet the stranger tells her he sees in every footstep the pains of sorrow
She keeps on believing in one thing to follow her deity
The patter of her feet stop in front of the mirror
As she gazes one more time
Tearing, confused, and eager
Clawing against her own womanly arms
She kisses the mirror and blankets it with black satin
Yet her own mind wants to leave her body
She doesn't want her story untold.