Alright

I'm just a little girl who wraps pretty words around herself like an invisibility cloak, hoping all the while that somone will see them and think "beautiful" instead of broken...

"strong" instead of soft.

These words -my words- are like shards of broken glass, cutting at the pieces of me you don't want to see. They are the words I try to show my mother, only to see her shy away, asking me if I'm alright.

Mama- I am alright. I haven't been this alright in a long time. You see my words as a cry for help, but the words themselves are all the help I need. I don't have to keep them inside anymore, pounding at my temples, threatening to spill out at any moment. They look so pretty here, aranged in clean lines on my paper. Something constant in a world that is falling to pieces.