I wonder if my dreams will ever come true
hearing the music in the silence,
seeing the light in the darkness.
I want to know what is to come
but I have no real urge to find out.

Sometimes I pretend I am a princess,
Plastering myself with false happiness,
Tiara and a ball gown,
Glitter emanating around me, diamonds draped across my chest,
like the weight and stress I thrust upon myself.
Striving to achieve perfection, worried about people’s perception.
I touch memories,
desperate to bring them back,
trying to replace the innocence of earlier years.
I worry too much, too often,
and sometimes I cry,
needing life to speed up and slow down all at once.

I understand I should stay true to myself,
never changing to fit inside the compartment of perfection,
Because I know this box is a symbol of conformity,
forcing aspiring individuals to carry the demanding traits we require of each other.
But it is hard to crawl out because of the perfect image society portrays
Self-consciousness is my weakness,
And I say “I’m fine”
“nothing’s wrong” and “I’m just tired”
Because inside, I dream of bigger and better things.
A world where ordinary is obliterated,
where fantasy is reality
Hoping life has more to offer than it seems to now.
One day I will achieve perfection,
But perfect girls aren’t real, and real girls aren’t perfect.
We must carry on with this unworthy feeling,
But learn to bury it deep within us,
So that we can live life to its fullest potential.
Still, inside, I have a want and desire to be
Recognized
Liked
Noticed
The important thing is how I deal with it.