A book of small poetry

Too much

It's all too much for me to handle
My mind and my body can't take it
My careful defence is collapsing
Though it took me so long to make it

I can't show that I'm breaking,
They must believe that I'm fine.
If they find, if they see that I'm failing,
Then they'll hate me and leave me behind

There's too much in my head,
So many secrets and lies
I can keep them from others' eyes easily
But I can't ever keep them from mine

And it's not just their secrets
But my own that I hide
For if mine were discovered,
I'd crumble, I'd die

But it's all too much for me to handle
I wish I could run from it all
But I'm not at all capable of standing
And it takes far too long to crawl

I should speak to them, I want to
Tell the people I trust
Because they trusted me
And all sense says I must

But, then again, my mind
Doesn't want to at all
Because it knows, deep down
They all want me to fall

But it's all too much for me to handle
And I want to be alone
There's really no point in telling someone
Information they don't need to know

I originally wrote this for a competition but I've gone off the idea. It just doesn't seem like what I want with this poem. Oh well, it's here now, no takin' it back.