the corners of her mouth curve up into that familiar smile
the perfect mask for the deep-seeded sorrow residing in her chest
her fake smile usually helps ease the pain a bit
but today the sorrow threatens to rise up in her throat and choke out all traces of air
suffocating on one's own sorrow is a pitiful and painful process
shaking her head, she forcibly swallows it back down and pushes the plastic smile once again
when will you realize what i am?
when will you give up on me?
when will you decide you've had enough?
when will you realize i'm not worth it?
I'm not good enough.
i am nothing.
they're living two lives and they both know it
their secrets cannot hide in the dark
midnight lures out the truth at last and fake emotions run to bed
when smiles sleep, sincerity emerges
keeping up with this bipolar lifestyle is exhausting
how long can we keep this up?
will it all be worth it in the end?
if we ignore it, will it simply go away?
when will it be real?
what is real?
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