Grace S


There is a monster in the world

This monster lives in everyone’s heart

Some more than others

This monster attacks lives everyday

Some more than others

This monster grabs people and drags them to deep, dark pits

Some more than others

This monster tortures people while they try to escape the pits

Some more than others

This monster is invisible, but gives people a death worse than cancer… A death by their own hand

Some more than others

This monster… is depression


Expensive Lenses

The cameras flash in my eyes. People call my name. My red heels glisten in the love of my fans. Microphones are pushed into my lips as people ask me about my feelings and life. But do they really care? My emotions are only addressed when people wish to exploit them to the world. The voices shouting bounce off my ears and become static.

I finally enter the black gates of my driveway. They stand tall against the sky, making my home resemble a luxury prison. It feels that way sometimes, too. The gates close at my arrival, clanging together and clamping tightly. The fans, reporters and interviewers  stand outside, clenching onto the gates like savages. However, they all have expressions of sad puppies.

I’m sure many people exclaim that they would enjoy having my life. The glamour of fame and money and endless love. What people don’t think about, is the lonely nights and empty relationships. They simply want my expensive life. But they haven’t looked through my expensive lenses.

My agents and producers say that I should enjoy the attention. I should tell my fans how much I love them and their support. Though I appreciate the support, I do not love them. Love is an often overused word. I don’t know my fans personally, and yet I am told to love them. Other people get to choose who they love and who loves them. But I don’t. I am told who to love. But I must say, they can never make me love my expensive life.




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