I feel so alone
No one cares where I am
I feel afraid that
If I go missing
No one will find me
Because no one will know that I’m gone
People only talk to me when they see me
If they see me
It’s difficult to go on this way
Because of the emptiness inside,
I don’t try to hide
People don’t ask
Because people don’t care
They go on with their lives
But I’m dying on the inside
Who can I call a friend?
Is anyone out there?
Searching for me?
Caring for me?
Who can I trust?
Who can I love?
But in reality, the better question is…
Who can love me?
I try to act happy in front of people, but people don't try to look through the haze. They see what they want to see, a pseudoself, not the real me. The me I show to the world, is a completely different me I show to myself...