“What I would give for your life, it’s perfect.”
My life is perfect, so I have to be perfect to.
I must be grateful, keep the demons inside.
Hide.
Never get mad.
Even when I’m being cursed out.
It’s not my fault, but the blame’s always mine to take.

My issues I keep.
Others always vent to me.
So who am I left with to tell.
I try.
And am denied.

My life is perceived in a way.
And I can’t correct them.
So I let myself drown trying to keep my life’s mask that way.

I’ll die trying to keep my mask.
To blend in.
And let others cry to me.
Even tho I cry myself to sleep alone.
Ill die trying to keep my perfect mask.
Because I’m grateful, and am told
oh what people would give for me life.
But what would I give for theirs to.

I’ll probably never tell anymore.
They wouldn’t care anyway.
Because who would?
My life’s perfect, just like I should be.