Sad Eyes of the Girl Underneath

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I stroll down the streets of my town, through the hallways of my school, through the rooms of my house,

And what do people see?

The town sees me as the councilman’s daughter, who’s respectful and bright with a future ahead of her, probably going to follow in her father’s footsteps.

The kids at school see the girl who runs for student council, and gets straight A’s, and smiles at them in the hallway, even she doesn’t know their name.

 My family members look at me and sees a tired face that barely comes out of her room, but knows that she’s okay because her grades are inline and she gets up for school every morning, so how could she not be?

They see the surface. They don’t bother to look any deeper.

My mask hides my face away, tied on with the thinnest of strings.

The mask stays over my face, hanging on because no one even nudges it.

No one pulls at the string.

No one bothers to look under my mask and uncover what’s underneath.

Why show my true colors when no one cares to see them?

I am a councilman’s daughter, but I hate politics. I do run for student council because I want to be a part of something, but I never think I will win anyway. I get straight A’s, but stay up all night trying to write a flawless essay, because being a perfectionist means you can’t sleep till you are assured all yours tasks are completed to maximum excellence. I smile at everyone in the hallway, only hoping to cause someone to smile back and make them feel better than I feel inside. My family doesn’t know that the reason I’m tired is because my anxieties keep me up all night.

The monsters aren’t under my bed, but in my head,

Telling me I’ll fail,

Telling me I’ll never be good enough,

Telling me there’s no point in taking off a mask if no one wants to see the dark, sad eyes of the girl underneath it.  

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