What Else?

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.