I was made of paper. Rippable. Burnable. You could crumple me and poke holes in me.
I wanted to be made of glass. You could shatter me but I would have the power to cut you. I would be transparent, you could see through me so I would never have to hide. To lie. I would be stronger.
But wishes aren’t the same as goals. No matter how hard I try or efforts are put in, life will never work in my favor. Not this time.