Words, Words, Words

Drained

Drained

God, why can't I stop shaking?

Berating myself?

For having ever harboured the childishly optimistic idea that people can change?

I can't stop shaking, and I know it's because a coldness has begun to sink into my bones; into my very being.

It's people like you who give reason for the term 'jaded'.

And the strangest, most unreal part of it all is that you're always smiling.

It's the center piece to every mask you wear.

That huge, toothy grin seems so real to the untrained eye, but I hope I know better now.

I hope I've learned enough lessons.

The glass is cracking, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep re-filling it. Its people like you who create the fissures that may surely come to define me, and for some reason I don't think it's within my control anymore.

I can't let myself be walked on.

Call it a sudden burst of survival instinct, but I'm done with putting myself out there, and I'm done being left in the dark.

I'm just done.

It makes me sad to see you so reliant on lies. On such falseness.

I wonder if you even remember what your true face looks like anymore, or what your real laugh sounds like. 

I wonder if one day you'll wake up and get tired of putting on a face.