Lips curved into the perfect crescent shape,
A display of love, joy, and fraud.
The water that boils beneath the surface
Of soft, gentle lips
Longs to burst free from its hell,
To burn all it touches.
And yet all that comes out
of the eyes of me
Is a blank expression.
A sheet of white,
Wanting so badly to show the truth,
Of the blackness of a heart so empty... so full of self hate and hate in general.
No smile compares to mine though.
I've perfected its imperfections,
Released its tension,
and straightened its crookedness.
Yes. Nothing compares to this smile of mine.
No other as thought out,
No other as bright.
No other compares to mine.
Behind its strong wall of bone, hides all of my secrets,
all my insecurities,
every monster that ever dwelled in my closet.
It conceals the unconcealable,
Fixes the unfixable,
Making every body and every soul
Believe that I truly want to smile.
YOU ARE READING
Overthinking.
PoetryThis is a book comprised of many kinds of poetry. I talk about topics that are kind of dark, kind of scary, but also very real.
