I'm not as happy as everyone thinks.
I'm nit as happy as everyone thinks. It's getting harder to smile. The tears are becoming more evident. They're starting to see how broken I really am. Maybe, I want them to. Maybe, I want them to know what they've done. Then I pull back and, I realize; I'm just as scared as they are. I'll never tell them they hurt me. I'll never let them see me break. It's hard to pretend you're something you're not. It's even harder to be who you are. If you're pretending to be something and they don't like it you can always pick a new disguise. If they don't like you though that's it you're done. Once they see its really you, you can't dress up anymore. You're forced to hang up the masks. So, I guess, I'm not done with my facades. As long as the cracks are covered and the tears aren't exposed they think I'm happy. For now that's all they need to know.
