Flowing White Dress

something I made up, about depression and being different. its ok to be different. if you ever need someone, I'm here.

ugly little lies wrinkled her white flowing dress.

huge regrets she slides across her skin.

will this ever be over? she cries to herself.

will I ever be normal like the others?

she hated herself for being different, because she knew normal people didn't like different.

they would smash her to the ground while pounding awful words into her head.

she never wanted to be the odd one with blood stains on her flowing white dress.

with the awful words running inside her head, she runs to the bathroom opening the cupboard finding random pills. she wanted to be happy and free, and that what she got.

to this day I wonder how she turned out to be, if she wasn't 6 feet under. I slowly slid down with my back against the grave stone.

We just knew her as the girl with blood stains on her pretty little white dress.

 

Author's Note

it may not be a poem to you, but I hope it makes sense and puts the point across.

Reviews

[Gedalya]

Conformity, is a disease. lol Good poem.

[VertoAtrum]

I love the first two lines, they're unique in the way they describe themselves.
I can understand this person's pain almost. It sounds like she deserved better than what she had.
Great job

[where will my free hands take me.]

why thank you :)