I sit there thinking how many layers. How many thick suffocating layers is it going to take to cover the truth. No one ever likes the truth they like the lies the pretty fake smiles that we write on our faces every morning hoping to get it perfect. But then they ask for the truth and I tell them but they just sit there in silence looking at me as if I said I wanted to kill someone. 2 mins pass and they finally say smth but nothing was better than this, they got up and circled me and shouted in my face saying what’s wrong with you what’s going
On in that sick pathetic brain of yours some things you keep to yourself. I look up,damaged and weak, and say: sorry I’m sorry that my pain is such a burden for you.

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