Her.
I see her.
I hate the way she breathes.
I hate the way she moves.
I hate the way she speaks
and stalks around the room.
I hate the way she walks.
I hate the way she opens her mouth.
I hate the way she looms over my shoulder
I know her.
I've seen the way she acts.
I've seen the way she pretends.
I've seen the way she talks behind other people's backs.
I've seen the way she thinks.
I've seen the way she dresses.
I've seen the way she truly believes she's doing good.
I've mirrored her.
I've breathed just like her.
I've moved just like her.
I've spoken just like her.
and stalked around the room just like her.
I've walked just like her.
I've opened my mouth just like her.
I've loomed over others' shoulders just like her.
I've become her.
I act just like her.
I pretend just like her.
I talk behind other people's backs just like her.
I think just like her.
I dress just like her.
I truly believe I'm doing good.
I am her.
Sacrifice
Sacrifice is worth it.
That's what I'm always being told.
No boundaries or feelings
just all worries and constant stomachaches
tears of pain that 'm supposed to just endure
The lingering emptiness that watches and stalks.
Sacrifice is worth it.
That's what I'm always being told.
What you feel isn't important enough.
The constant silence whenever I'm alone
there's nothing to do when there's no one around
the nothingness is overwhelming
The loneliness of isolation from everyone I know is deafening.
Sacrifice is worth it.
That's what I'm always being told.
It doesn't matter whether you like it or not.
Nothing spoken feels validated
nothing felt is taken seriously
a part of me feels hatred
You just have to take it whether you like it or not.
Sacrifice is worth it.
That's what I'm always being told.
It's tiring being "Me."
I feel suffocated
I don't like being around people
yet I don't like being alone
the things I feel are complex
Complicated
Twisted
It's hard to know whether I should be feeling them at all.
Sacrifice is worth it.
That's what I'm always being told.
Is it really worth it in the end?
I should be grateful
I should be this, I should be that
why should I be grateful
for something that hurts me?
A part of me feels love despite the pain.
Sacrifice is worth it.
That's what I'm always being told.
Hate and love are things that shouldn't be mixed.
The constant hatred is eating at me
the love for oneself and others is eating at me
everything I feel is there through the nothingness
The nothingness that kills,
yet is what I crave the most.
Sacrifice is worth it.
That's what I'm always being told.
It's not worth it if it's killing me.
About the Author:
Ela Morel is just a 13-year-old girl from the keystone state who happens to like writing about
dark stuff. She goes to an urban school in the southeastern part of PA. She draws in her free
time (albeit horribly) and listens to music 24/7. She’s a very chronically online person.
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