Eighteen- Hide

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I'm so sick of using words to show you how I feel
I wish you knew
I wish you could see without me having to tell you
But you can't

You can't see past the walls
Or the ever growing pain
The anger
Or the numbness I contain

Would it make a difference
If I showed you how I feel
It might make it worse
It might make it real

Because if I showed you
The pit of my heart
To then be met with rejection
I'd simply fall apart

So I'll continue
To hide from you
Because there's nothing scarier
Than the real me

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