You cry like a storm when there’s eyes in the room,
flood every ear with your practiced gloom.
But the second you get what you came here for,
the tears dry up nothing hurts anymore.
You wear heartbreak like it’s part of your skin,
a costume you slip in and out of on cue.
Call it pain, call it damage, call it whatever
but it looks a lot more like control when it’s you.
You break people down just to feel them stay,
then act like the victim when they walk away.
Twist every word till you’re clean in the end,
but everyone sees it you don’t just “bend.”
You don’t want truth, you don’t want repair,
you want the spotlight, the pity, the care.
And the moment someone decides to stand tall,
suddenly they’re the one hurting you after all.
It’s getting old this act, this disguise.
At some point, you’ve got to face your own lies.
Because tears don’t make you honest or real
they just prove how little you actually feel.
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 12:22 AM UTC
You cry like a storm when there’s eyes in the room,
flood every ear with your practiced gloom.
But the second you get what you came here for,
the tears dry up nothing hurts anymore.
You wear heartbreak like it’s part of your skin,
a costume you slip in and out of on cue.
Call it pain, call it damage, call it whatever
but it looks a lot more like control when it’s you.
You break people down just to feel them stay,
then act like the victim when they walk away.
Twist every word till you’re clean in the end,
but everyone sees it you don’t just “bend.”
You don’t want truth, you don’t want repair,
you want the spotlight, the pity, the care.
And the moment someone decides to stand tall,
suddenly they’re the one hurting you after all.
It’s getting old this act, this disguise.
At some point, you’ve got to face your own lies.
Because tears don’t make you honest or real
they just prove how little you actually feel.
don't fall for it
