I'll be honest.
Usually, I am not very good
At hiding things.

But this darkness
That has learned how to control me,
To manipulate and exploit me,
I am an expert at hiding.

I've learned the art of slipping out,
Fading away,
Making excuses,
Avoiding the subject.

Nobody needs to see
The girl they think has it all together,
Curled up on the hard wooden floor
Screaming out as anxiety
Chases her down a dark alley
And beats her to the ground,
Leaving her there,
Alone,
With the weight of the world on her shoulders.

I don't want to be a victim,
a sob story,
or a martyr to the cause.
It'd just be nice if everything could stop
Spinning.