Written by: Genevieve Farese

Since but a babe,
My expressions were always empty.
Smiling, crying, laughing;
yet I don`t feel a single thing inside.
Raised to be perfect,
to be good at everything.
From music to art,
maths to science.
Even my literary understanding exceeds what is normal.
Yet it was never enough. 
It always has to be,
`still not good enough`.
One mistake, 
they shake their heads,
I clench my fists, grit my teeth.
Expectations are always so high,
that sometimes, I just wanna have fun like everyone else.
When they tell me to smile, I smile;
cry, I cry. `Hold your emotions, show no anger,
no pain, no joy.` 
`Master your tongue and eyes that they may not speak nor reflect 
disdain or displeasure.`
Those were the words that I grew up with.
I never heard `Good job` or ` you could do better next time`.
no. not even `have fun and let  yourself go.` no not even once.
I`ve become a doll; lifeless and manipulated.
That sometimes my fantasy and reality seems the same that I don`t know how to tell the apart.