Beauty

People ask me why I always look different from the way they last saw me?

 There is a girl inside me begging to do dangerous things to this body. Changing its appearance is the only way to silence her. It doesn't work forever. Changes let me convince myself I am getting closer to the girl I want to be the same way I believe hurting myself would make me feel.

Nobody will understand that. So defeatedly I shrug my shoulders and whisper under my breath that I was bored. Nobody cares what you have to say because they are fine as long as the conversation stays light and entertaining to them. This is all just a joke to them. Why would they care? It isn't their world falling apart.