Look At Me… Really Look At Me

I’m exhausted.
I’ll say it as it is.

Anytime you call I say that I’m okay,
Remember recently when we met for a cup of coffee, just to catch up?
You mentioned that I’ve become more radiant.
I’m not more bright as you said.

It’s all sadness, swollen eyes,
black eyeshadow from continuous crying.
Make up dad.
That’s what makes me look brighter and full of life.

I wish to run away from myself. There’s so much going on in the city.
I use drugs, and sleep through the day
Then lay awake the whole night lost in thought.

Sometimes I wonder if I sold my body, how much money I would save up.
If I choose to, I can be so cunning.
I bet I’d make a good contract killer.
Would the sound of breaking bones give me some fulfillment?

I’m just so angry at everything.
I wake up and hate living without a purpose
With so much anger on the inside and no outlet,
I want you to know that even though I love you,
I wouldn’t tell you how I really feel.

Because it would break you more than I.
I will protect you from my pain, maybe be your guardian in secret.
That’s how we survive here in the city, far away from home.
We fake, lie, pretend, escape, hide and assure you that we’re okay.

When you mature, you come to terms with the fact that life is life,
sometimes beautiful and sometimes ugly, more than one can bargain for.

I’m off to bed. We try again tomorrow.