Saturday, May 1, 2010

The Fake Girl

The fake girl
Smiles at everyone,
And attracts strange stares,
As a reward for her boisterous antics.

The fake girl
Laughs at stupid jokes,
And clumsily carves a happy face,
Into the tender skin on her wrists.

The fake girl
Is the clown that no one laughs with:
Just at.

The fake girl
Doesn't mind being a source of entertainment.
She'll gladly sell her soul,
To keep everyone happy.
She dances in dizzy circles,
And trips over her own feet.
She grins with hollow eyes,
And wishes that she knew why,
She wanted so badly to die.

The fake girl
Is a mask.
Something cheaply made:
An artificial flavor,
That can never truly substitute for sugar.
She is the rug that you throw on the floor,
To hide the dust and stains beneath.

The fake girl
Is about to fall to pieces.
Inside, the mutant screams.
It claws at the insides of pretty plastic flesh,
And tears at the corners of the fake smile.
It puts its claws through the faux sparkly eyes,
And rips out through the brain.
Foolish creature:
It wore the mask too long.
Never will this androgynous, shapeless, heartless monster
Be accepted.
If it wanted to be seen,
It should have never hidden in the first place.
A life of real pain,
Is better than a make-believe existence.

The fake girl
Isn't so fake anymore.
She may not be much,
But she's the only thing left.
She's all you ever wanted anyway.
Isn't she.

(Note: the lack of a question mark at the end is intentional. It isn't a question: it's a statement.)


  1. Wow, Eva-chan! Amazing poem! It's extremely brilliant. It almost reminds me of a poem I wrote about feeling like I'm constantly wearing a mask, but mine more focused on the few who could remove that pretense and see the real me.... :P Anyways, very, very beautiful poem. Keep up the great work!!! ^.^

  2. :) Thank you Charyl-chan! :')