Shattered
October 2010 (9th grade)

The face in the mirror isn't the one I want to see.
I see people behind me
embracing the kind of flawless I wish I could be.
I don't want to be so dull,
but to be beautiful
and intellectual.
I long for people to notice when I'm gone,
my name to live on,
and nothing about me to be wrong.
I want to shine bright as day,
and be known as "The Girl with the Pretty Face."
But I'm perfectly imperfect in everyway.
I'm shattered
with the pieces arranged in a unique pattern.
Though my spirit hasn't been battered.
I don't want people to forget
or loved ones to regret
the girl with a million secrets.
I throw a punch at the mirror because it doesn't show me who I want to be.
A shower of shattered shards fall upon me.
A pile of glass turning into a sea.
I see the mess I made,
though it has done nothing to my face.
I refuse to continue to fade.
Who will I be?
Right now, all I see
is the shattered mess known as me.