Was the foundation not good enough,
The make-up not strong enough,
To hide what I’d been going through?
Were the bruises too large,
The cuts too deep,
To ever possibly conceal?
Was my mask of happiness too thin,
My cheerful voice too fake,
To convince them of my stability?
I knew it was all for naught,
Yet I hoped I could stay strong.
I knew nothing would protect me,
From this world where I don’t belong.
Their accusing looks, their quiet gasps,
Were enough to tell me what their hearts contained.
I’m broken, imperfect, and selfish;
And they knew.
