Look at me.

NO, wait.. 

I don't want you to look at me. 

Never mind, look back. 

I'm so indecisive, that's what everyone tells me. Sorry. 

Look at this face, but please don't comment. 

Check out these scars, but never ask where they came from. 

If you really want to know, it was my cat.

No, it wasn't. I lied. I don't know what to say.

I'M AFRAID THAT YOU WILL JUDGE ME. 

Like he did,

Like they did,

Like she does.

But if I don't tell you, I might just implode.. Explode?

Which is better? 

Neither.

Both. 

I'm going crazy here.

I keep RED lipstick in my backpack 

To cover up my messed up lips

From biting them too much because I'm so anxious at school.
I worry. 

But then again, maybe it's just enough. 

ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU LOOK AT ME.

Oh, I didn't think that would get you

To turn your head in my direction.
Look away.

No. No. 

Look back.

Wait, you're just looking through me.

You don't see me. Okay.

That's better.

Sorry for causing a scene.

I'm just glad you didn't make any comments.

That would just make me feel silly.

She would call me an attention whore.

He would call me a drama queen.

They would think I'm too damn emotional.

Excuse the language, darling.

Sometimes, deep down, I want you to look at me.

I just want you to look at me

And smile.

Like you used to. 

Please Prove You're NOT a Robot.

How can I tell I'm human? How do I know I'm not a robot? I know I'm human because of the late nights, laying in bed, anxious thoughts running through my head.

The messes in my room prove that I don't need perfection in all I do or say. The make up stains on the carpet and walls, the tear-stained pillows and blankets, the jars full of hand written notes and concert tickets along with all of the memories that come as part of the package.

I know I'm human because I can still look at THAT boy and say, "I won't be bothered by you anymore", but the pain is still present, because I can look into THIS boy's eyes and I can tell him I love him, crying tears of joy.

When I walk through the halls I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, anxious as hell, wondering what people think of me when they see me.

I KNOW I AM HUMAN BECAUSE....

I have a name and a picture ID to prove it. 

How was my day?

"I got in my car

And yelled as hard as I could

Until my teeth hurt

And my throat felt raw

And all I wanted to do 

Was crash my car

So now that you know

How my day was

How was yours?"

And this is how my day went after you crushed my heart 

and broke my spirit. 

I hope you're happy.

Why don't people understand?

Nothing of me is original.
I am the combined effort of everybody i've ever known.

Intro:

Honestly, most of those who ACTUALLY know me would be able to guess who's blog this is, but there are few of those people around here. Let me tell you more about who I am. 

I am the unnecessary, "i'm sorry" mentioned after a stupid fight between friends, lovers, strangers. But honestly, i'm sick of saying sorry because it's finally lost its meaning. I am the closed up bud in the spring which can't quite seem to open up enough for other's to see its beauty. I am somebody's favorite melody and someone else's nightmare, all wrapped up in the fragrances worn by women who tear down the self esteems of girls. You know, the ones who waltz around half naked on the stage for a fashion show every year, the women who make girls feel like they have to be as beautiful as them to make it in this cruel world. I am a suicide kid, I only think about myself and I keep secrets. I am the story that will never be told, the story that nobody knows, the myth, the fairy tale, the scary story, a fictional romantic novel waiting to be told. I am Ruby McCall. And only those who truly know me will understand.