Outside, I'm quiet.
Like a rock.
Laughing at jokes.
Smiling at friends.
But inside I'm breaking.
Nothing is going right.
And I don't think I'll ever admit to it,
but I'm not happy.
I never am.
But I smile.
And I joke.
Because nobody likes a downer.
Nobody wants to see a dying man.
Not during their lunch hour.
Lunch is the time to talk and have fun.
But its hard.
Because I've grown to like the pain.
Because I feel it every day.
And nobody seems to notice.
Nobody seems to care.
That I tried to burn my heart away with dugs
And carve my anger into my arm.
This is the teenage wasteland.
And it cuts deeper every day
