"Am I enough?" This question beats into my brain, am I the only one who ponders this? Is everyone else the epitome of perfection, if so why can't I keep up? Why can't I pick my pace up and match the rhythm of life that they have set in stone- why do I keep getting dragged under their dancing feet?
They say that I'm young, and I don't know the pains of the world just yet. But when society shoves the alien-like appearances of models 6 feet tall, and rail thin, how can I not know the way it hurts to not amount to much? They say that you're too young to know love, but love knows no age limit, or distance, and it attacks everyone without a hesitant look that tries to determine the difference. they say you're too young to want to die, but the good die young right?
What is it that matters most? the length of my legs, the inches on my waist, or the length of my life, and the pain scarred in inches on my skin? I prefer to spend my time thinking that my mind will one day matter, but it seems that my thoughts are not what matter most.