they couldn’t see past my smiles.
my hurt was invisible to them.
they didn’t see the blood drip on the tiles.
my wrists burning from the blades.
they saw a happy face,
but didn’t know my pain.
I would find myself pace,
with a gun rested on my lips.
they never heard my cries
or how i would scream for help
i was ready to die,
but you never noticed.
they were oblivious to my troubles
so i’m more dependent on myself.
even if the signs weren’t subtle,
i’ve moved on from my struggles.
— The End —