How many times will I lie and say I'm fine?
Put a smile on my face and pretend I'm alright.

No one knows the difference. I'm too good to fail.
Who will see through the mask? See that I am frail.

I'm so afraid to ask for help. Too proud to tell the truth.
Yet I want so badly to try. But I'm far too hesitant to move.

Every lie just piles up with the others. Always bringing me down.
I feel like the king of sorrow. The scars inside are my crown.

I wish someone would find me here and pull me from this hell.
I wish I wasn't so proud and afraid. All I want to do is yell.

I'm not sure where to turn anymore, and I honestly don't care.
I hate my own apathy. I'm so tired of the fact that I'm scared.

But oh, how I lie. I pretend that I'm still fine.
As if no pain surrounds me. Truth is, I wish I could die.

I miss how easy it was to smile
and not see myself
as a liar.
How easy it was to laugh
without a trace
of irony.
I miss how easily
sleep would come.
I miss how easily
I could trust.

I miss the time
before complications;
before broken families;
broken hearts.

The time when runaways
were the stuff of fiction
and sad news stories,
rather than fodder
for a poem.

The time for pitying others
for their absentee fathers
or overly dramatic siblings
has long past.

Yet another one of the side effects
of my newfound cynicism;
I have nothing
left
to give.

So hide behind your shield of smiles
and let false happiness mask
the depth
of your trials.

The oppression of sadness
The absorption of madness
The stark contrast
of the black on white.

Few things are more defined
than the clear separation
the cutting edge of the "t"s
the loose curl of the "c"s

individually,
so clear
but page after page
the letterswordsstanzas
run together
to create a map
of the labyrinthine establishment
that just may be
my mind.

loneliness preys
on those you would least expect
to fall prey
to loneliness.

he curls up
next to the people surrounded by people.

he sits down beside me
on the bus
the park bench
my kitchen table.

he murmurs soft reassurances
that are not at all
reassuring.

Don't Worry he says
No One Can Hurt You he says
As Long As You
Let No One In.

and
weak as I am
I listen.

guilt though
takes a different approach

I can feel him
when I'm alone.
At night,
face down on my pillows
he creeps.
soft fingers play piano
on my spine

the notes
reverberating through my ribcage
the metallic thud as they pound
my heart

You Did This
rings out
over and over

its rhythm
adhering itself
to the
unsteady
tattoo of my heart

until the guilt
is inseparable
from me.

We are a sum of all of our choices
Of all our experience and echoing voices
Voices in our head that tell you what to do
Voices outside that are nagging at you
Voices of people who tell you you're wrong
Frustrate you and break you until you're long gone
You're inherently good; you were born to be kind
But society ***** and it changes your mind
You're inherently good; you were born just that way
You were born to be good, you were born to be great
You're inherently good, so lay down your arms
'Cause a baby never did you any harm, did it?
*A baby never did you any harm.