We all know that girl, the quiet one, the one who doesn’t talk that much.
She only talks when spoken to and when she speaks it’ll be only a few words.
\"She’s the weird kid” as it louds around the classmates and teachers and nobody knows why.
Little do they know what’s going in her head.
Even she doesn’t quite understand it, it’s always so loud in there.
She has this empty feeling, when she wakes up or get out of bed, its only because she “needs” to.
She would rather sleep all day because when you sleep it’s like an temporary death, peaceful, no worries and no one telling you what to do.
But then you wake up, getting ready for the torture.
Waiting for the day to end, you don’t want to die but you don’t want to keep living like this.
Even though she wants to get better and get rid of that feeling, she got used to it.
It gives her comfort, it feels wrong but like home.
.
.
.
That girl \'she\'s so weird\'
\'she\'s strange\', \'where is she?\', \'she just disappeared\'
An extra,
A background character.
no one seems to notice her existence,
she sometimes feels insignificant,
\'I am interesting\', she tells herself,
I got lots of good stories to tell.
You know that one girl not at the front,
but not quite sitting at the back,
the girl with none maybe one friend,
with anxiety and often panic attacks.
the girl who feels lonely
but lonely she wants to be
because she doesn\'t like the drama,
of making a friendship tree.
The girl that doesn\'t like coffee,
and doesn\'t quite like tea,
the girl i know so well,
because that girl is me.