I hate to force a smile.
It seems I have to,
To keep my real self locked away,
Hidden behind an ivory blockade,
If ever escaped,
I'd fear the worst.
People would worry,
Make alot out of nothing.

I hate to make people worry.
It seems I always do.
I breathe or I talk differently,
I act or I walk differently.
“What’s wrong?” They ask.
“Nothing.” I reply.
They know it’s a lie.
It’s just a made-up story.

I hate to tell a lie.
It seems I can’t help it.
I feel stupid and cheap,
Like it was all that I could do,
Although I know it wasn’t.
Because of this,
I loose trust in the world.
It’s an awful way to live.

I hate not trusting people.
It makes me feel so lonely,
I feel useless, worthless, and helpless.
This has become the real me.
What you see is what you get.
This is how I look.
Do you want me now?

I hate the way I look.
The constant sad expression haunts me.
But you made me this way.
When you walked away,
I forced a smile so shake you off,
People worried and seemed to care,
I lied and said it was all alright,
They trusted me until they saw the blood.

Now they cry.
I hate to make people cry.
I feel so low,
But now,
There’s nothing I can do.
I took a risk.
I took a knife.
I took my life.
It is only now you start cry.
 
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