No one knows the real me.
No one has emotionally felt what I have been hiding.
I am just a mask.
The mask is just a thin dividing line between telling all the emotions and hurt that I have tried to hide and all that of my fake emotions that I have kept bolted up inside.
I may seem like an open book.
A care free, dramatic, ball of spirit who lives life to the fullest when really…I am a living lie.
I know that one day I’m going to break. But when?
How bad will it be?
Will I hurt someone around me?
I don’t know, but why does it matter?
Why do I matter?
Does anyone care?
This was about me. The true me.
The real me that comes out behind closed doors.
This is me.
YOU ARE READING
The Heart and Mind of the Sick and Twisted
PoesíaThis is a book of poetry I've written. Hope you enjoy.
