They require perfection
I am not perfect by far
I make mistakes
I fail
I breakdown like anyone else
But they require perfection
Red lines
On my wrist
The only real thing
I fake my happiness
I smile and grin to their face
While quietly breaking inside
I won’t let them see
They require perfection of me
Everything I show the world is fake
Not a shred of what I really am
Only the Red lines on my wrist are real
Every time I show a little of the broken person inside
They say that’s not me
Who are they to say who I am
Who are they to judge
When their own secrets can be just as bad
They ask me if I’m alright
I say I’m fine
I won’t let them see
I smile and grin to their faces
Only the Red lines on my wrist are real
