Smiling never used to be this hard.
And sadness was something I could just discard.
But it's permanent now,
The pain and the tears.
And all of my crazy, irrational fear.
It's hard to hold back,
The confession in my head.
To tell everyone around me,
I'd rather be dead.
I know I sound weak, and pathetic, and untrue.
But I can't help that my brain's not just like you.
It's the chemicals, I swear,
That make me this way.
But of course, why would you care?
I'm not normal.
I'm a mess.
And I don't smile like I should.
I don't smile at all.
YOU ARE READING
The End Of The Road
PoetryPoetry for the dead and dying. For the ones just done trying. Here's the words for you. It's a bloody dream come true. I can't promise it'll help you get through. But if your mind is dark It'll leave its mark It'll make your bleeding heart Just t...
