If ever you see a glint of something good,
Radiating from the appearance of how I seem,
I tell you now it isn’t me.
It’s merely a lie, a false action or word to comply with expectations.
The only part of me that’s true is the sad eyes and silence,
The black cloud of self-obsession,
The twisted humour,
The hate,
The pain.
Hide behind someone else’s words.
I hate that I don’t know when I’m real,
And others don’t see,
That all that’s real
Is tears
And ice.
So if you ever see a shadow of something good
It isn’t me, it’s in your mind,
An imaginary person to disguise my real form.

© PickledSparklyMoosePrincess – author


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