Calm and black my heart is flat deader than it ought to be. It's not like it's a surprise. it's been building . . . dying slowly shrivelled, unused cast aside? no, worse. forgotten. ignored. And every time I put on a happy face and pretend like all I care about is the little things, Every time I stop people from knowing the blackness that's paining me Every time I lie to myself and lie to friends Takes me farther from knowing what I want who I am what I'm missing what I want what I want But I laugh and pretend and it's alright until I'm lying in bed unsleeping at five in the morning and I know I must get help somehow But I don't know where to turn to because I don't know what I want. Paper doesn't help. So I throw away the blankets and huddle to myself and pray for sleep Because I know that in the morning I can forget again.
-TCS