everyone thinks I'm happy. Like I'm a walking angle, a miracle even. Nobody knows what happens in the dark. I let the thoughts flood and take a toll on my body. I wake up with new scars, never fading. Always hidden with makeup or under my jeans. Nobody knows. Some days I want them to know but others it's a secret. I'd like to keep it that way.
YOU ARE READING
open-minded
Poetrythese are all my thoughts. some suicidal, some funny, some really stupid.
