"Are you okay?" they ask. 
                              "I'm fine," I respond. I want to die.
                              A smile on my face, while I'm breaking slowly inside. 
                              "How are you today?" they ask.
                              "I'm alright," I respond. I don't want to be here.
                              A laugh from my lips, while I'm crying inside.
                              Fake smiles, happy lies.
                              How long until they notice that's all I am?
                              How long until they realize that I'm just a broken person.
                              A broken boy who's just dying inside. 
                              Fake smiles, happy lies.
                              That's all it takes to fool a world into believing you're really okay.
                              
                              I have no idea what this is. All I know is that I'm having a really bad day today and I'm just feeling really really low, a lot lower than most days, and it's just brought out all these nasty thoughts, and a friend recently gave me the advice to write out your feelings, that that's a good way to get rid of all the negative feelings.
                                      
                                          
                                   
                                              YOU ARE READING
Box of Scraps | RANDOM II
Random"Tony Stark built this in a cave. With a box of scraps!"
 
                                               
                                                  