the truth

I'm not a stranger. No, I am yours. with crippled anger, and tears that still drip sore.
i do not want to be afraid
i do not want to die inside just to breath in.
I'm tired of feeling so alone
relief exist only when i am cut.

Every morning i wake up, hopping that you'll see.
these scars wouldn't be so hidden if you'd just look me in the eye.
I'm tired of hearing about all the other girls, i just want you to talk to me. to just me. not who you hope i could be, or who I'm not, i just want you to talk to me.
you always say you feel alone, but I'm right here. i always have been. how do you think that makes me feel? crushed, broken, and defeated.
I'm here now, but i can only wait so long. my heart can only take so much.

everyday, i pretend. pretend I'm not hurting, pretend it doesn't matter. i smile, and say I'm fine. but when a person asks, they don't really want to know. they are just serving themselves. making themselves feel better. and i know that, and yet i pretend.
but the problem with pretending is that eventually, you loose track of whats a lie, and whats the truth. but as soon as i try to show people what you do to me, I'm rejected. I've set the standard. I'm supposed to be happy. not broken. so i go back to pretending. and the cycle starts again.

how can you not see? i treat you so much better. i love you, whether your happy, sad, broken, fixed, mad, heart broken. it doesn't matter. its you who i love. just you. if only you could see that. if only she wasn't messing you up, clouding your vision. but if there's one thing I've learned from you its this:

the only time I'm not pretending is when I'm with you.