I look up and wear my best smile.
I say cheese just for
an added effect
plus a free cute little chuckle
they will surely buy into it now!
Falling into the trap that
I am ok
Even though
I'm not

I used to be able to go places
not caring about appearance.
But others stared.
I was the weird kid who didn't
smile
laugh
frown
or cry.
Apparently if I don't look the part
I become an outcast.
People tried to guess my problems

     Maybe she needs counseling.
     Have u considered ADHD?
     Is she depressed?


They wouldn't stop.
The questions surrounded me
I would lie awake wondering
"What are the theories they made today?"
I couldn't take it anymore.


I
Put
The
Mask
Back
On

I hated it but there were
too many questions;
my reasons became
less and less
believable,
and
more and more
suspicious.

I aways wear the mask now.
Can't forget to smile!
Say cheese!
Oh and laugh at that,
I imagine it was a joke.
Take that smile off now,
they might be saying something serious.
Wrinkle your forehead,
As if you are confused.
Because that's what normal people do.
I think.
And no matter what, don't take the mask off again.
Because they will know
this time
that it was all
just an act,
right from the start.

These
silky
smooth
syrupy
words
shine
for most.
For the powerful,
they are a weapon.
For the weak,
it is what kills them.

Words are amazing;
they can do
so much
and
so
little.
To find the right ones is near impossible;
they always seem to be right out of my            grasp.
They are so easily misinterpreted,
what was meant to shoot someone up,
instead,
tears
them
down.

I misuse my words often,
for I am of reckless nature.
I often equip them as my weapon in this constant battle
they call life.
I am an incredibly accurate ******,
my words hit the heart easily.
I keep reloading my pernicious gun
without checking to see how many I wounded.
I walk right past them.

Not a care in the world.

My friends have started to disappear.
Is it I who shot them down?
But I was aiming to make most laugh,
not tear a few apart.
And now, my anger is boiling -
why should they find offense to what I said as a
meaningless joke?
Or maybe I should not joke with these
wretched, wicked words that have hurt so many.

As I sift through the rubble,
searching for remains,
I begin to wonder.
What it was I said
that killed them.
Im slowly realizing
how much pain
my words
really cause.
Every time I muttered
I
hate
you
I shot you down,
until you could stand no more.

My concoctions is dangerous.
They have no labels.
I cannot find the right words to sprawl on them
so people will understand.
The mixes are too complex.
The feelings
too real.
I bottle them up with corks and stack them high on a shelf where no one can reach,
but the shelf collapsed.
My jars shatter and everything is blended together again.
But this time I cannot separate them.
The mixture created a fog so thick that even I cannot see.
My sight is blurred, but glasses will not help this time.
It has gotten so bad that now whatever direction I travel in doesn't matter because
somehow the fog is everywhere.

Friends, family, everyone seems to be shouting my name, trying to lead me in the right direction.
But I can't find where they are standing.
It is impossible for me to reach them now;
I am too lost.
The shouts I used to hear have turned whispers,
and the whispers
faded
to
black.
I know they didn't stop calling for me,
but my ears stopped working.
I gave up on myself.
But it is my
mistake.

I forgot to label the bottles TOXIC.
I didn't know the damage this could cause.
How badly the solution I made would burn.
But It does not affect the flesh; instead it crawls inside and rips at the heart.
Swallows it whole.
And the red.
It drips everywhere,
covering everything,
both
inside
and
out.
And as it eats at me, it spreads to everyone around me.
The pain is too strong.
I used to be able to make it go away,
but not anymore.

I stopped walking a while ago.
Now I lay here.
No one will find me
but I gave up hope a long time ago.
The only thing that is with me is
my dark passenger,
but it is hardly comforting.
It used to be in one ear, when I could still hear the shouting in the other.
But now the passenger surrounds me.
And just like the fog,
it consumes me
whole.