Hiding

at one point, you get tired of hiding it.

your makeup gets messier, less thought put into it, less care.

your outfits get less detailed. a simple hoodie and jeans or leggings will do.

your hair gets messier. no more curls, no more straightening.

your face gets more acne. no more long, intricate skincare routines.

eyebags grow under your eyes, growing a dark shade of purple.

your nails are short, a result of the constant biting and gnawing.

your nail polish cracks off over time, the nail polish bottles remain untouched for months.

"what happened to you?"

"are you okay?"

"what's going on?"

they only ask when your pain is visible.

when your makeup was stunning, your outfits were amazing, your hair soft, light, and curled, when pimples were non-existent to you, your eyebags not even there, your nails nicely trimmed, shaped, and polished.

when you were perfect.

they didn't try to make sure you were okay, or ask, they just assumed. 

they always do. 

we go based off looks, not off personality shifts, or texting patterns, or absences stacking up, or inactiveness.

to determine our pain, they go off looks.

at one point, you get tired of hiding it. you take off the mask detailed with cracks, bruises, and tears.