You tell your lies like truths so everyone believes you.
You wear the brightest of colours just so they can distract the world from the scars that lay underneath.
You smile and you laugh, crack jokes at the detriment of your own sanity.
You're not happy.
No, you're depressed.
You loathe the darkness because it brings
out your demons
Which is why you're friends with insomnia.
You're a poet, scribbling painful words on blank sheets with your bleeding ink.
You feel as though you've been deserted,
Those who claimed to love you are nowhere to be found.
Lonely and alone, this is your fate.
Not a day goes by without you crying,
Your eyes are now the mirror to your soul.
What are your sins?
Your hell isn't a furnace but a life full of pain and anguish.
You're exhausted,
You've run out of places to cut on your arms,
Your mind is as erratic as a stormy sea.
You're weak, too drained to continue this path of life.
You search for death but even he has forsaken you.
You roam this life without a purpose in it
And when asked “how are you?”
They don't hear the screams behind your “I'm fine”
Because you tell your lies like truths so everyone believes you.
© Adeyinka A. Ayomitide (Ayusco)
IG: Ayusco_inks