Was it yesterday or the day before that I told you I love you?

I constructed
and took the time
to build this paper mache mask.
The mask I built is beautiful.
The mask makes me feel beautiful.
He thinks I'm beautiful.
It's a beautiful mask.
I talked to him every night
whilst wearing my beautiful mask.
We laughed. I cried. He consoled me
with virtual arms.
I was beautiful to him.
He said I was beautiful.
He thought my mask was real.
I believed that it was real
for awhile.
Then the paper started to peal.
He questioned my beautiful mask.
I told him that there was nothing to fear,
it's still a beautiful mask.

I broke my paper mache mask.
He didn't like what he saw underneath.
He saw real skin.
What he saw was ugly to him.


I looked down at my beautiful mask
and I tossed it to the fire.
It's not my mask.
It's not beautiful to me anymore.
I'm going to learn to be beautiful in my own skin.
And maybe one day he'll find me beautiful.





This isn't really a poem. But it's about the "relationship" I had with him. Two days ago I told him to leave me alone for good. I was done with the criticism, the hurt, and his rudeness. I don't think I've ever been able to extremely hate and love someone in the same week--let alone it be the same exact person. It's been two days I miss him. I know he's a horrible, horrible person, but I want him to change and be the person I thought he was in the beginning. I know it won't happen, but I can only hope.


Today, something good happened. I, honestly, have very little hope in this world. That sounds so depressive, but I live a very down and gloomy life. I cannot help it. I am a happy person at times, but most of the time, I don't know how I'm staying alive. Nothing really sticks out in my mind that makes me genuinely happy. Today my parents decided to get Chinese food. You know that after ever meal you get a fortune cookie. My fortune is always either something stupid or it doesn't make sense. The one I got today was EXACTLY what I needed to read. It was all that I needed. Let me show you:

For some reason, when I'm picking out my fortune cookie I always try and pick the one that is "calling out to me." I picked this one and I feel that it was meant for me. I don't know, but something about this gives me hope. I think in time his and my wounds will heal and maybe we'll find some time to work things out.