The sky wears a mourning veil yet it doesn't cry. I am very much like that sky. I can tell it is about to rain yet it has no tears left. The amount of people, who complain about the sky every single day. It may be sunny or it may rain, but there will be at least one person who will always have something to say. I will never be enough for anyone, not even myself. The dots on my skin are too bright. The scars on my skin are showing too much. There will always be something I will find wrong with me, and if not others will gladly point it out. Oh, how I wish to find a person, that won't judge me. I wish to find someone who will see the dots on my skin like the stars in the night sky. I wish to find someone who will see my scars as lightning that brings brightness to the dark storm. Oh, how I wish to find someone who will see me differently than me. A person who will look at me and not point out my flaws but instead tell me how they see me for me and not my imperfections. But for now, I hide within the clouds hoping to disappear into the night. Hoping that someday I might see myself as pretty as I see the sky.
YOU ARE READING
Book of the forgotten
Short Story⚠️TW⚠️ venting, depression, unliving oneself, sh Short sad stories that I like to write to myself, so might as well post them somewhere. I might post some poems time to time Ps: English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any errors
