Superficial

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Superficial Your words seem delicate, when they tell me how pretty my eyes are, or how good my new dress looks, and they are perfectly aligned with your robotic smile. You seem genuine but your eyes tell the story differently... The way they pierce through me analyzing who I amÉ that stare, it will always serve to be my constant reminder that you donÕt need me at all, youÕve never needed me. You respond to my presence with the same complimentary repetitions youÕve gotten so extremely good at over the years... And I wait; I wait in the chance to feel something different just once, something sincere. But the world isnÕt sincere, and who am I to demand it? To think for once second you may have changedÉ I donÕt know why I strive for your acceptance, because I know that IÕm more than good enough. I donÕt know why I strive for the care you give to certain peopleÉ, when a lot of people care about meÉ and why Éwhy I am so surprised that over and over you give nothing to our relationship. I guess I let you do this to me; I let myself fear your existence and my inability to ever be of worth to you. Now I mold back into my frequent role as the heartbroken victim, the character I play all too wellÉ ItÕs not like I need you, because I donÕt. ItÕs not like I miss you, because I donÕt. ItÕs more of a frustrationÉ the anger I build when I continue to be just a birthday card or a Merry ChristmasÉ if even that. ItÕs not like I canÕt be myself without you, but every word on this page tears into meÉand I donÕt know why. Maybe itÕs the hatred I secretly have for you, or maybe, maybe IÕm just realizing how foolish I am, for wasting even a second trying to challenge something that is so out of my reach. Although I am nowhere near clarification, I am done trying to figure you out; the closing of my words will close you out eternally. So hurry and repeat your quick goodbyes, hop into your fancy car. It doesnÕt bother me anymore. I love who I am and thatÕs something you will never know how to do. No matter how high your riches tower, or how perfect you want to seem, you will never be okay with who you really are, you will never understand love or even how to live. This superficial world you live in will one day be no more. And then what will you do? Your fancy coats and golden skin will one day fadeÉ and the effort that you so carefully put into this flawless image of yours will be of no significance. Maybe then you will see how far you are to authenticityÉ But you are apart of my family, and though I will grow up one day and be NOTHING like you, I forgive youÉ "





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