It’s not what you think
It’s what I made you to believe in
I censor it
Paranoia pulling deep ends
My words are bruised
Coming straight from heart of warrior
Losing a truce
Counting days when we were merrier
I see them staring deep,
Fishing my answers and my secrets
It’s like I am, an open book easy to tear which
Can be thrown away whenever you would want to
Hold it sternly, it has stories of
scars with faint blues
I yell at my heart with all strength that I’ve left
To speak up against insecurities and deep anxiousness
Someone will hold your hand only if you put it forward
And leave you too,
If its fed with fake jolly smiles and pictures
I’ll tell you this truth,
If I’m ever being honest.
But that’s the thing....
I’m never being honest.