The mask of him

61 12 0
                                    

I wonder what the new days will bring,
Then I get home, and I take off the mask.
The day, and almost impossible task,
Is finally over, and so I lie Down, and wait patiently for the day that I die.

I cry, I scream, I bawl, and sleep,
Even though I have promises to keep.
I wait, and wonder, and cry some more,
And I ache and burn from my very core.

Then, I'm not alone, and the mask reappears:
Out goes the grief, pain and all of the tears.
As I am a happy person, cheerful all the day,
A world full of rainbow, not one shade of grey.

Of course I'm not okay, I'm not fine,
No matter how much I seem to shine.
I don't even know why I feel this...
Why my existence is one long, endless love for him.

But it is, and will be, so I cling to life,
As one day I might slip, and end it with a knife.
But, I'm still here, no matter what my dreams might say,
And I hope that one day I will actually be okay.

The Woebegone's Deepest ThoughtsWhere stories live. Discover now