It’s waking up in your t-shirt and having to acknowledge the sun while wishing for the night to come back.

It’s getting in the shower and balling my eyes out because I know that’s the only time no one will hear me.

It’s disguising myself with foundation and winging my eyeliner because maybe then nobody will notice the way my hands are shaking and how the circles under my eyes look a lot like black holes.

It’s driving to work at 65 miles an hour praying something will happen in the 10 minutes it takes me to get to work, so I don’t have to lie to myself and everyone else by smiling and telling everyone I’m okay.

It’s everything.
Everything hurts.
You used to care about that stuff until holding my bones together at night no longer meant anything in the morning.

It’s always a lie that causes the most pain, you know?
It’s not the veins you opened up, or the nights you spent with your head buried in the toilet throwing up the ***** you tried to fill the hole in your chest with.
Or the way you smile through the tears.

It’s the fact that you’re completely aware that you weren’t worth the ******* truth.