It gets a little harder, then usual
To hide how ghostly you feel.
Suddenly, you become more aware
That you haven't left your room in days.
You think more about your smile
And all the hurt pushing it up.
It's hurt a bit more,
To keep up with the fascade.
Suddenly you live in the basement,
In the room with no windows.
Searching for some little ray,
Any proof that the sun still shines.
To grab and throw up in the air,
To scream
"Look!"
"I'm still here..."
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 12:32 AM UTC
It gets a little harder, then usual
To hide how ghostly you feel.
Suddenly, you become more aware
That you haven't left your room in days.
You think more about your smile
And all the hurt pushing it up.
It's hurt a bit more,
To keep up with the fascade.
Suddenly you live in the basement,
In the room with no windows.
Searching for some little ray,
Any proof that the sun still shines.
To grab and throw up in the air,
To scream
"Look!"
"I'm still here..."
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