Hyacinths & Biscuits

Untitled Part 17

They say they love my odd choice of song.

But do they hear the words?

They say if i ran away they would come find me.

But do they know where to look?

They say the emotion in my performance was so real.

But do they know the tears were real?

I am not all giggles and sunshine.

My mind is a vast hole of nothingness.

The light in my eyes so artificial.

They say they love my smile.

But do they see it's only paint?

They say I am an artist.

But do they see the darkness of my art?

My words are not all lollipops and gumdrops.

I spew venom at myself in the mirror.

The words on my tongue sour like lemon.

They say I am their best friend.

But they make me feel alone.

They say they need my light.

But do they know they make me dim?

I am not all smiles and jokes.

My dark circles hidden under makeup.

The jokes used to feed my fucked up need for human acceptance.

They say the miss me.

But do they make an effort to make sure I breath fine?

They say they will always need me.

But do they love me.

I am not their friend or their love.

I am the love they know they can take.

I am the energy they need to function.

I am the fucking air in their lungs.

The blood in their fucking veins.

The very heart, beating to keep them alive.

But do they love me?

Do I love me?