I fall asleep each night, thinking things will get better. Maybe tomorrow won’t be so bad, I say. Maybe I’ll feel okay.
Just okay? Why not great?
Because no, not everything is fine. I’m suffering inside.
Or maybe it’s just a bad day.
Maybe you are overreacting, they say.
What is a bad day, if every day feels exactly the same?
But I wonder what it’s like to feel great.
Will I be kinder, a little less rough around the edges? Will I smile more and mean it? Will I feel less than the world’s weight crushing my shoulders?
But how can I feel great?
I’m a lonely girl, and insecure.
I drive people away with my lack of hope and rambling mind.
Who wants to be around someone like me?
Who would try to find a friend in me when I’m so hard to reach?
Why love a lost cause, when instead you could love a spirited one?
You’re great, they say. You should feel great.
I wish it were that easy; feeling some way on cue like I’m in a movie.
But it’s not and never will be.
I fall asleep each night, thinking things will get better.
But when I wake, it’s all the same.
Today’s just a copy of yesterday.