They say the saddest people smile most
You can say I am one of them
But I am not sad, I'm damaged
Like broken glassware scattered all over the cold tiles
Unable to be fixed
And if fixed, the cracks still visible
The cracks act as scars on my heart
A malady that no healer could cure
I was a different branch attached to a different tree
I stood out as a freak
I've never been accepted as the person my parents raised me to be
I hid my heart in its cage
Afraid of heartache
Afraid of the judgements
Afraid of the criticism
Afraid of words with no true meaning.
