the smile leaves my face
lingering just slightly
as the bus pulls away from the stop.
I have as many faces as there are minutes in the day
Serious when scared
Somber when serious
Laughing while I sob on the inside
Smiling instead of running away screaming.
It's silly isn't it? Being so fake.
But I can't help myself.
If I acted like me all the time
I'd be just like that guy in my History class
(his name is Steven)
And he's the biggest outsider you'll ever meet
I could be like him
I could act like myself
And maybe they'd love me for me
But instead I'll fake being one of the mob
I'll laugh when I should and tell jokes about "your mom"
I'll belong on the surface, I suppose
But in my mind I'm as foreign as Steven
Because honestly--
I'm not a person, I'm a mask
The work of a girl-woman whose sole talents are writing and being lazy.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for at least considering to post a comment.
It means a lot to receive feedback about my writing and ideas.
If there is anything you would like to see more of/ less of, please let me know.
Have a great day,
Helen