She stood there withmascara-stained tears running down her face.Her usual soft straight brown hairis now a dead curly mess.
Her glasses are somewhereunder her bed forgotten and broken; like her soul.She can't rememberthe last time she touched a book or her favorite skateboardor even stayed up all night watching her favorite YouTubers.
She had been so caught upin trying to fit in thatshe lost herself on the way...
So as she stood therewith big false lashes, and tight clothing.Her chapped red lipswhispered one small thing...
"What have I done?"
About the Creator
Malai Sporner
Hi, my names Timberly but I go by malai. I like to call my self an amateur photographer and writer. I've written stories and poems majority of my life, and I've come to love every one of my pieces, and I hope you do as well.
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