But what if I had given them any insight to my mind, would they have seen all the times I’ve cried myself to sleep because of how much I hated school and the feeling of uselessness it made me feel?
Would they have seen, how much I battle to see the beauty and life in the eyes of that person in the mirror.
Would they have seen, that awful feeling, you know the one I mean, the ache from the pit of a stomach where your own sorrows lie, where your own stories remain untold.
Would they have seen, the chains of regret that lay heavy on my ankles from all the missed opportunities the voice of anxiety has held me from?
Would they have seen the thoughts that plague me every time someone wishes to bring up the future?
Would they have seen, the people I’ve let go because that voice won’t let me say how I really feel?
Would they have seen the feeling in my stomach when someone brings up ‘daddy issues’.
Would they have seen, how many times I allowed blood to run from my skin in the hopes emotions were something tangible I could release as easy as a swipe?
And all the while, people think my life was perfect, just because I wore that fake smile on my face, I sang and laughed and acting like no one could hurt me.
Maybe it’s true, maybe they couldn’t because I was hurting so deeply that, I couldn’t possibly feel any more pain.
My life is a balancing act, of not showing how I feel, not letting anyone see beyond the smile I wear on my lips.
But the pain becomes too much and a tear will fall from my eyes and while I’m alone, a river will flow.
My life isn’t perfect, nor am I, but can you see that?