isn't it strange when you look fine,
like everything is normal?
like a cheerful soul with no worry,
always encouraging the people around you.
it's queer and odd, and rather off,
that you look like you're full of energy and hope, with actual life goals, when inside
is not.
inside you're slowly drowning in despair,
choking on your own positive words.
no matter how much you say that you're okay,
you'll think you're not even harder.
there are those times when you genuinely laugh,
but that feeling never lasts.
it slips away
like a phantom in the night,
and scarce times does it return.
inside you feel like you're dying slowly
and nobody sees.
you're feet
can't carry you properly anymore.
you're hands
no longer do as you wish.
and still,
no one notices.
no one sees
until it's too late.
