p style="text-align: center;"As teenagers, we all at one point or another think we have it all figured out. We think we know what our future will hold, how our lives will plan out. Who will like who we won't like, br /br /br /We think we know ourselves. But, we don't. Sooner or later will realize that. And honestly, will we ever know ourselves? We not only as teenagers but as humans as well, were always changing. br /br /As children, we think the world is sunshine and rainbows, but we soon realize that's not the case. Some sooner than others. br /br /Honestly, I personally feel little to no emotion. The only emotion I feel at times is fear. But it's only there for a second. Then it's gone, br /br /I hardly feel sadness, I have to force it upon my face to get others around me to think I actually have a heart. br /br /I laugh and I fill up with happiness. But only for a fraction of a second, then that feeling is gone. I'm filled with more rage than anything. It hides in me like a beast, br /br /Attacking whoever gets to /br /The mention of another's life being taken away, I shed no tears, I feel nothing. I'm, numb. Emotionally. br /br /Some may say it's because I'm a teenager, that It will fade when I'm adult. But, then again, adults are just bigger versions of teenagers, aren't they? br /br /I feel angry, at myself at times. I ask myself,br /br /br /why? Why do I not cry for another's life? But nearly do when yelled at? What's wrong with me!?br /br /Some call me aggressive but that's because I don't know how to act at times. Because the mask I wear is breaking and the cracks of my true self is showing. And the only way to hide it is with rage. br /br /I think I'm free from this mask, but I'm not. I think I've taken it off, I think I've broken it. But I'm still wearing it. It's glued to my /br /My actions are goofy, sarcastic at times. Dark humor is my thing,br /br /some say it's part of my 'personality' but is it? I've been acting for so long I don't remember who I was before I put the mask on. I don't remember when I put the mask /br /I no longer have a heart. Not because of heartbreak, but because of those who've harmed me. Not physically but mentally, br /br /they say physical pain is worse than mental. But those wounds heal, eventually. Mental pain, last forever. Is never /br /They come...they cry...I give...they take...and take...and take...AND TAKE!br /br /They leave me...broken, alone...they leave me a broken doll that they are done with. Crying were no one can see me. Because for me, a teenager crying is a sign of weakness. A sign of a child, but really...it's the only part of me left that's /br /They say I'm a child for crying, but then who's the ones laughing when one mentions they've been raped? Who laughs when one mentions they are forced to have a child or be a father? Who cares not for those whose lives aren't as amazing as theirs?br /br /Those who only see the mask, br /br /people like me. People who have a mask glued to their face, and don't know how to take it off. br /br /br /And were too afraid to show how vulnerable we are, because we know if we do people won't reach and hand out to help like we've all done so many times. They do the same thing everyone's done to /br /They'll use us, they'll take advantage of us for our kindness. Boys and Girls will sweet talk us into sex, people will use us just to vent on. People will judge us because we aren't fucking rainbows and damn sunshine, ( but then neither are they.) Some may call us names without knowing what we've been through. br /br /They'll just use us as a target instead of getting to know us. br /br /br /at the end of the day,br /br /I look in the mirror, into my once light-hearted eyes, the eyes that held so much light and kindness and happiness. Now in their place is a pale color-less face, tired eyes with no light. Someone who always looks drained. Someone who looks like their everybody's doll. br /br /I look into the mirror and I ask myself the same question,br /br /br /Who am I?br /br /strongWho was I?/strongbr /br /p