In truth
I'm happy
But I used to be
Quite broken
Hence the poems
And the heartache
And the sadness
And the hurt
Of course
Now I realize
If I press enter
At the right time
It can be considered
Art.

Wash away the makeup
The paint of another day
Wipe off the fake smile
That hid all of the pain
Farewell to the laughter
That stopped what you had to say
And greet the tears of nighttime
Which company held at bay.

I flee from the masses
And fly to the rooftops
Up the worn staircase
To the confines of my mind

Within the loneliness
The ever-changing thoughts
The shatters of memories
I am trapped.

Her lips kissed the air
With the sweet words she whispered
But the broken mummer that caressed the silence
Was her heart and soul.

The world sat on her shoulders
And shifted beneath her worn sneakers
Because what is a vibrant spirit to this place
If it is not masked by a pretty face.