If you ever see me writing in a book, or random paper, or the inside of a folder, I'm writing emotions.
It's easy to cover up a feeling of sadness when you are so used to it, it becomes a natural thing you do around others.
I have no control over the way I feel, except when I'm trying to hide myself from people around me.
I'm supposed to be the strong one. I'm supposed to be the one others come to when they are feeling low.
My mask must always be on, and now I'm used it. I'm happy throughout the day and get home to shut the world off.
Want to know why I love showers? They're loud enough that no one can hear my whimpers and the tears won't stain my cheeks. They also give me warmth that I receive nowhere else because too many people give me the cold shoulder.
My friends are always depressed and complaining. The only true one I want around doesn't feel the same way. And my family is a trap that I don't want to fall into.
Why is it that I live a life of lies? A life that I don't want to live because I cannot be myself? Why must I be stuck behind this mask?
YOU ARE READING
Spoken Poetry
ПоезіяThese are some poems of my own. They are about all different things. Some of them can be a little upsetting for younger readers.
