I’m tired.
Tired of fake smiling until my face hurts.
Tired of hearing, “She’s so perfect!”
I’m treated more like a tool than a human.
A trophy to be stared at,
Pointed at,
Touched at.
But what are you going to do when you get sick of me?
Abandon me to collect dust on the shelves?
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Author:
ilovethecolorblue6 (
Offline) - Published: May 20th, 2023 22:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
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