Every day, I wake up and slip on my mask.
It’s thinner than paper,
In fact, you can’t even see it if you look.
Nor can you see the hundreds of knives sticking out of my back,
or the heart on a platter sticking out of my chest, dripping a trail of blood,
Or the carts and carts of emotional baggage I push around each day.
Why? My mask is nearly flawless.
No one looks in to see the torment,
No one looks in because I don’t let them.
This is the way that it will stay - Forever.
I’m tired of being me,
I’m tired of being single,
All I wanted was one shot at a relationship,
Thrice I was given that chance
Thrice it was spoiled.
Curse you,
Curse you all.
If thrice being shot in the foot isn’t good enough,
I fucked up a friendship.
I pushed him away and made things awkward.
We pretend it didn’t happen,
But we both know it did.
Forever will it be,
I will be single.
Fate, you’re being mean.
Forever, I’ve tried.
Forever, I’ll loose.
Forever, I’ll have knives and bullets in my body.