#blue curls

I wanna be one of those girls. Not one of… those girls. You know, the ones with paint instead of scars on their thighs, with words instead of suicidal thoughts on their minds. With beauty that blinds, instead of clothes that hides. I wanna be one of those girls that go to the gym and workout instead of the ones, staying at home to cry their eyes out. The ones that drink green juice and tea, not the ones with scrapes on their knees. The ones with a small waist instead of a face that went to waste. I wanna be one of those, who only drinks coke if it’s light, instead of taking it before they smoke. The ones that have a beautiful talent that makes people applaud them, instead of telling them what flawed them. A talent, that isn’t really a talent, but they did it for so many hours a day, until their eyes turned gray and it became one because they had to have one, no matter if it was ballet, croquet or painting someones portray. Because their parents thought it was important, even though the girls did not like it and really didn’t want to do it but had no choice because they didn’t wanna be one of those girls, so instead they became one of those girls, even though they didn’t want to be one of those girls, but society taught them that blonde hair is better than blue curls and that they should have their eyes replaced with pearls like the rest of the girls. That you should be paper thin and 2-dimensional because if not then the world will tell you that you’re unconventional and that all you should do is sit still and be silent and if you don’t, well then it’s okay for a man to get violent. So now that I think about it, no thanks, I don’t wanna be one of those girls, I’d rather keep my blue curls.