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Bailee

Australia

You may be wondering what makes me different from you or the person in the corner? Well not a lot really, I write on here, on Wattpad, and singing is my life. I'm striving to one day perform on Broadway... hopefully. I honestly just love feedback!

Message from Writer

Hey everyone! I would really appreciate some constructive criticism. I struggle a lot with grammar. I would love to gain feedback about how I could improve this... thanks! From a girl you don't know!

The Car Ride

August 10, 2015

PROMPT: Open Prompt

0
Do you remember as a child ending up with bruises and grazes from the playground? I do, I used to get them all the time, having fun with my friends. Well I get them now too, bruises and scrapes. Deep ones, that go further than any purple round cirlcle that will dissapear from your skin after a few days. No these bruises I get last with me a lifetime. My eyes may be blackedned but so is my mind from any happy thought that I could ever imagine. Some how my mind is connected to my heart and heart is connected to my soul and my soul feels like it has been preiced with the sharpest needle anyone could find to terrorise my life. 

My lips bleed with blood of shame as I want to hide my face beacuse I see myself as worthless. Because your mocking silences made me feel worthless, as you acted as though your actions never existed. My body is constantly in pain from the bruises you cause, my heart is cosntantly in agony from the words you swore. My cosmetic state may not be one of beauty but my feelings are the mcuh uglier side. The mocking silences that you continue to call echo in my ears, as if I had no thoughts, going through one ear and out the other, because you made me feel that way. I now look in the mirror and all's I can see is some pointless abstract painting that never makes sense, although some can see the beauty others put up an unknowing fence. Like they don't see a thing because although my blackened eyes should be enough they still say you'll stop because they believe your good. I feel like I am your prey, a slice of meat you can either eat or throw away. I constantly let waterfalls emerge from my eyes because all's I can see in the mirror is a complete mess, no beauty and no colour shows through my face. I feel like a ghost to everyone else but to you I'm you puppet on broken strings. 

Paint my face white and my lips red because I feel like the class clown back in high school again. Words emerge from you mouth, slicing like a sword. It perices my heart as the clouds turn grey and you watch the pointless box. The pointless box filled with colours and lies, where they like to tell you its all alright. The media sings with excitment because someone was kind and opened a door as people like me they continue to ignor. Your disgusting feet rest upon the furniture, the furniture, because I can't call it mine. The bottles surround your head and intoxicate your thoughts, I try to image how you once were for a year. Now everything is more clear. 

I want to leave this mental institution. Its not as easy as everyone thinks, packing a bag and leaving. The shadows pull you back to their despair so they don't have to feel lonely. Happiness is not an option, only when you are gone. When you leave its those sweet precious moments my insides don't churn at every thought I have. It does not last long because those moments of being alone is filled with tears, but somehow I feel less lonely then, rather than when you're around. Those moments filled with silence tick through my head like an everlasting clock where midnight never seems to come. We can't become kids again and sneak to the fridge for a midnight snack, we will caught and not by our parents but by the people who wish to pull you down to make their own worthless life seem better. 

What is the point? What is the point of even living a tragic life this terrible only to be drained of all happiness. It seems like a dark place. My bruises continue to swell and buldge with an ugly feeling that I cannot bear to handle. There is a light though, but it glinters ever so slightly. You need to help it burn, to illuminate, because once the light is on the shadows will no longer seem so terrifying. They can't sneak upon you any longer because you know they are there. I know they are there. I just wish my bruises and cuts would go away. Band aids don't fix everything but hope will help fix the wounded. No one is alone, don't be alone. 

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