Sitting in the hallway and paying no mind to the fluent sound of high school drama and counterfeit, I stared at peers around me. Every move, my eyes were eager enough to examine feelings i can't share. I'll always be here like a ghost, unvisible to their hearts, as they carelessly ask me the being of my mood. And again, I will answer the debilitating answer they want: "I'm okay." Then, I'll add under my breath, "...as a black rose dying can be."