Invisible

      Sometimes, I reflect upon myself. I wonder whether I truly am the person I want to be. I will spend the whole day wondering how I can change myself to become that person I dream to be. I will go to sleep telling myself, "Tomorrow, I will be that person." When I wake up, I just begin my usual routine, and I once again am that loud mouth annoying girl that no one enjoys being around.
      I put people down, even though I say I am just teasing, to make myself feel better. I don't treasure the things I do have until they are gone. I don't see how much I love someone until they have abandoned me. I lie to myself and others. I rely on excuses and facts that are useless. I pretend everything is perfectly fine, even though I know I did it wrong. I try hard to make myself feel better about this person I call "myself", but I can never seem to convince myself that I am okay the way I am. I second guess everything I do, but don't even bother to think about what I say. I try to create my reality, knowing that it is made for me. I focus my world around one thing, and forget about everything else. When I say I am happy, I am only lying to myself. Happiness should come from your true feelings... Mine comes from little blue pills. I tell myself that I am not invisible, but I know deep inside that I am not actually valued and seen as someone worth listening to. Most of my conversations are with myself. My art work isn't ever happy, but instead masked by happy colors and fake smiles. My mind is cluttered with shattered dreams and tears I can no longer release. I think of things to say, but never say them because I fear being hated. I don't know where to go in this world. I sometimes wish to leave. To fly through the sky, and not care about the pains. I see myself soaring through the moist clouds. Dashing past birds and watching my loved ones from above, I would settle into my own heart and finally feel like an actual human who is, or was, valued. Now... I sit in an empty room. No one notices me or my broken heart. To them, I am just the color of the paint. I am nothing but a dusty old book no one wants. Or the belt that just sits in your closet because all of your pants fit you. Am I truly the color of the wall? Do I honestly blend so easily?
      Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like if I just shout from the top of my lungs. What would I say? How could I explain these feelings to them? They don't see anything but a blank wall. All I can do is scream that I am there, right? ... What would I say? ... Something like this(?): "I am not the person you think I am. The things I say don't normally make sense, and really don't have a purpose. But I thought you would see it! The mask I throw over my words. I don't mean all the bull crap I say. I just want some one to see me! I want some one to know I am here. Is it that hard just to say that I am good at something? Why am I so transparent to you all?!" Just the thought of it all frightens me, but it also excites me. To think that I could be seen one day. That they would listen to the words I bother to say. That is something I would love to see, and can only hope to come soon.