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Take a look at the path of upturned trees, the destructive mass of roadblock in which is what traps me underneath it's weight.

Close your eyes, and think, if just for a meer second what it would feel like to suffocate inside the plains of your own mind. Each word burying you deeper and deeper into the shivering, icy cold depths of nothing.

Each struggle that becomes less and less only sinks me deeper.

Have you been in my place? No.

Because yes, many people may have been somewhere close, but no amount of empathy-no, pity, will do me any good. Because my experience is my own, and others can only imagine.

I am the living, breathing epitome of a façade. They think my shell is bright and golden, but my image is the infamous Trojan Horse. And those men who deceive so easily are the insecurities and doubts within me.

My soul lives in the shadows when my mask is smiling down the street. Always telling people with a smile of plastic 'I'm fine.'

But when will they realize that the words 'I'm fine' means something else entirely? 

When the lies that I spew from my smile that hurts to crack, because that very same smile is a thread away from snapping and shattering into a million pieces like the porcelain doll I've become, are too much to bear?

When will they realize that maybe, just maybe I'm not fine, that I'm not okay?

Will it be too late?


Ta da! I'm very sorry about not posting lately, but here you go:)

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