Brand new,
Shiny and promising -
hope met with disappointment.

Collapses on impact.
Dangerous in appearance,
Hollow within. A fraud.

I went into your party
Didn't think anything of your snacks
I ate anything you gave me
But then it came to the cakes

Your chocolate cupcakes were delicious
"To die for"
Devine

I guess my body took it literally.

I choked
You started laughing
"Was it funny?"

I am crying
Throwing up
Scratching til my skin bleeds

You think I'm being dramatic

Can't you see??
Your cupcakes are killing me.

When I am finally able to find my mom I have no time

And my vision is blank

I don't remember the last time I ate a cupcake.
I always throw them up now.

It’s all Choreography, you see,
How I know just what to say,
How I smile at your life,
My enthusiasm about your new boo.
Don’t worry,
Don’t worry,
Don’t worry your perfect little head,
About my loss,
About my body,
About my hair.

It’s all Choreography, you see,
I’ll probably tell you about the one good day,
Some award I won for being nice,
And spew some pseudo-intelligent *******
But I know
Oh, I know
I know all too well you’ll see through me

It’s all Choreography, you see,
I’ve been training since I was five,
It’s meticulously planned
And executed flawlessly as
Warm hugs, laughs, kind eyes and sweet, sweet words.

It’s all Choreography, I know
I’d rather do this,
Because,
I dance alone anyway!

Apart from your mother…

Only insurance companies
pray you live forever
no crashes, no coughs,
no inconvenient surprises.

They pray for your safety
with more sincerity
than your friends ever did.

No backhanded compliments,
no masked resentment.

They’ll cheer for your success
as long as it’s mild.
Celebrate your fitness
but not too wild.

I feel alone
in my own shell:
playing pretend,
with my smile laid out on a shelf.
I’ll study grinns until they fit my heart.
And they cover it with blinding light.
Because the darkness
became a treasure I shall only see.
I let no one grasp it,
no one touches my true self.
No wonder I feel alone
when I don’t let anyone see myself.

I hate it when people look behind bright smiles;
when they look at the underpainting of my heart
and find that there’s nothing behind my laughter
but empty white that lacks dream or purpose
and was only born to remain hidden.