Why is there always someone who is dissatisfied, No matter how hard you try to be good enough? Why do you feel obligated to this person, Giving everything for them until there is nothing left of yourself? Why do I turn around and look in the mirror, And think: Why wasn't I better, why didn't I do it differently this time? I stare at the empty face in the mirror, Full of contempt and hatred. I wipe over the cool surface, hoping, Hoping for the pleasant reflection of what I once was. But all that remains is this cold face, A shadow that overwhelms everything around you
Picture: P!nt€r€st