I'm supposed to write some poems,

To try and help me heal,

But where do I start,

When I don't even want to feel?

If you've read my other stuff,

You know how angry I seem to be,

But what if I told you,

I am happy on the daily?

I think I could be on Broadway,

For how I've mastered my false smile,

Widened it to show all my teeth,

Blinded everyone in the mile.

And people see this happy girl,

When they look into my face,

Someone kind and not unique,

That must be my case.

They don't see my struggling,

As I drown in my own depths,

And every time they dismiss me,

I fall closer to death.

Can you hear,

My cries,

Can you see,

My eyes?

I am calling,

Out,

To you,

O-oh.

That's a song we sang in choir,

When we tried to tell people to aspire,

To listen to us kids.

I think my parents missed the point,

I don't think they took the message to heart.

How can I explain,

This desperate,

Yearning,

In my brain?

I say that a lot.

Help me.

I can't believe that one day,

I might eventually heal,

And the pain I feel,

Will not be real,

I'm going to be okay.

People think I'm pretending,

To be hurt and broken inside,

They think I'm attention seeking,

And that I just lied.

They don't see the truth in me,

And maybe they don't want to,

But that's okay, I understand,

And I promise that this was not planned.

If I chose to suffer like this,

For the people who would look,

Who would point and whisper,

And laugh at me,

Because my emotions they mistook,

Who would I be,

Where would I see,

The good in everyday,

And what would be the point of,

Hiding my painful past away?