Poetry from a damaged soul

Fake

My charade is the perfect play.
It's the most wonderful way to pretend I'm okay.
Sweetie don't you see that this life is killing Me?
My pieces of my heart have shattered to much that not even the strongest glue can't fix it.
I made myself a paper heart to fake myself hope.
But who am I kidding? I'm worthless and a disappointment.
Let me go.
Let me die.
I just really want to fly.
Far away so no one can see.
What is really killing me.