I'm not pretty but that is what they say
Do not believe yet still I reply "okay"
I have cuts across my heart
Sorrow portrayed as a work of art
I'm always sleeping in late
Life lived in a foggy state
Dark circles rest on face
I've had plenty hours
In dreamland dancing barefoot picking flowers
Permanently bitter due to much neglect
Too far gone for innocence to ever ressurect
I'm too cynical to let anyone near
Not warm enough so people disappear
And I cannot fathom why anyone would stay
It's no surprise when good things slip away
I fake laughter to disuassade any concern
Joy is a blessing for which I desperately yearn
But in conversation I act like I am fine
Do very best not to reveal a single sign
I wear dark eyeliner to match my point of view  
Even black isn't quite enough to mimic the hue
Because insecurities constantly bring me down
Erasing smile then replacing with frown
I self isolate
I know deep inside
Loved ones would be better off if I died