"Salon"

Sometimes i look at myself in the mirror and wonder what's behind this face of mine. It's big-eyed innocences and crystal cut features seem to hide the fact that i'm not really human after all...

Why do they treat me the way that they do? Why am i constantly sexualised. My intellegence only teases them further into this challenge to make me submit to them. Am i really just an artifact to be objectified by them?

In my darker hours, i long only to scar myself. I'd hate this body. I'd hate this face. My temple. My prison. Between me and the world lies this shape that holds me trapped.

I'm not perfect at all. Stop treating me like i am. Stop treating me like i'm perfectly broken. Beautifully Broken and just for you. It's not right, but the only way you can interact with me is through this shell i'm in. Will things be different some day? WIll you be able to look beyond my murderous body only to see the twisted soul inside?  ¶ 11/12/2005 10:48:00 PM