• Daniella Pineda


I wake up every morning and I think "oh well again"

the first thing I think about is the scale

then what keeps me sane

I look in the mirror and cover my face with the façade I want to place

so these people can’t tell me I can be replaced.

Over time I think is it worth?

The agony and the pain

and make myself retain this anger and hell that I don’t even comprehend?

Shouldn’t I be able to talk about it and do it for myself?

but when I see my reflection all I think about is them

who they think I am.

If only they saw through this play

The act that drives me insane

They would be surprised by the person they think they know too well.

I guess the blame wasn’t theirs

perhaps mine, or the worlds

or this society that keeps us all stern.

We ought to come out of this cycle

The one with endless turns:

Tells us what to think, what to wear

What we feel and what we should learn.

Our minds are manipulated by the aim

we remain the target of society’s expectations and declaims.

But if we know this all too well

why can’t we just go ahead and leave as well?

I guess it doesn't matter if we are against it all

at the end of the day, this is the life they tell us to obtain

the one in which villains are praised

And heroes remain oppressed

by the ignorance of the constructed base

in which we remain prisoners once again.



Why didn’t you say something?

They said I wasn’t enough

they wouldn’t believe a word I thought

they even said “shut up”

and you dare to ask us why we didn’t speak up?

they would’ve killed us either way

believed us or not he would be let loose

so we figured we would just contain it.

Was it the right thing

I will never know

but the hurt I said, I would never show

an unhappy life because of a bastard that couldn’t keep it in his pants

is what I went through with all the lies

it wasn’t once or twice but all the village who heard the cries

of girls with unwanted attention

ending in the male inflection

of the disgusting acts, we still deal with in today’s generations.

-Justice, please.


And her eyes will turn into glass and you’ll see how it all shatters

that girl with an aching heart will tell you it doesn’t matter

meanwhile, her soul is crashing down exhausted from all the pain

and then, her eyes will start pouring rain

that reality sinking in, to her feels like getting hit by a train

so you’ll pretend everything is fine and okay

yet there is still that girl with the glass eyes and a broken heart

more than a heart a soul begging for healing

if only she was dreaming.

-Wake her up.


I can’t seem to cry

I knew it would die

the days of us blinding our sights

to the realness that wouldn’t come out

it is done, over with

that feeling of pain became relief

and suddenly

I can breathe

I am alive

I survived

and all of this I owe it to the one

who made the mask come off

to the eyes of the blind.



Yet, words weren’t the ones that taught me how to speak

it was the chaos amidst the silence

that showed me

the heaviness of our voices and their real worth.

-It was the silence.

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