analysis of self.

I don’t recognize myself anymore,

who is this girl?

I never look her in the eyes

or tears will ruin her perfect facade

of foundation and mascara

and then everyone will know.

 

people say, “I love you.”

people say, “you’re not alone.”

but I feel alone

when they hug me, I feel numb

as if I was static on the television

as if I was peering in from the window

 

24 hours of misery

sometimes a break in between.

I’m lying because I’m so accustomed

to keeping my feelings to myself.

I hardly cry, instead I bleed

I hardly try anymore.

 

and, I’m scared to be happy

because I know what’s like to have it stolen

and, I’m scared of what people think

because I know what’s it like to be rejected

and, I’m not scared to die

because I’m so damn tired of fighting myself.

 

 

 

 

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