• The Real Me

    Oh, how I yearn for my childhood,
    To play and pretend in enchanted woods,
    To dream all day without a care,
    Instead of having pain to bear.

    As I’ve grown, I have lost control,
    Of the darkness within my soul,
    And that sweet, little girl,
    Who used to see the world,
    As a place filled with possibilities,
    Now only knows the tragedies
    Of reality.

    My face is merely a façade
    I don’t know what to believe in,
    Whether to turn to God,
    But the smile upon my mask,
    Is as fragile as a shard of glass,
    And if you break it, you shall see,
    The real monstrosity lies underneath,
    And that, I fear, is the real me.

    The tears in my eyes
    Hit my face like knives,
    Cutting a path to my core,
    For the world to ravage and explore.
    The feelings inside,
    Have become hard to hide,
    And the truth is what I fear,
    May be near.

    My face is merely a façade
    I don’t know what to believe in,
    Whether to turn to God,
    But the smile upon my mask,
    Is as fragile as a sliver of glass,
    And if you break it, you shall see,
    The real monstrosity lies underneath,
    And that, I fear, is the real me.

    The child inside wants to be free,
    To roam the earth in its entirety,
    To search out opportunities,
    For a future she will never grasp
    Because of the evils of her past.
    And the only way she seems to escape
    Is to find any way to self-mutilate.

    My face is merely a façade
    I don’t know what to believe in,
    Whether to turn to God,
    But the smile upon my mask,
    Is as fragile as a sliver of glass,
    And if you break it, you shall see,
    The real monstrosity lies underneath,
    And that, I fear, is the real me.