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He’s drowning on the inside
Folder:
2013
You wear your smile like a beloved pair of jeans
As if it comforts you
Belongs there
Hugs you against the cold of the strangers
Shaking everyone’s hand
Knowing everyone’s name
Handing out happiness as a clown would balloons
Yet does anyone ever notice how you never sit still
How you can’t sit still
How you hardly make eye contact unless you must
How your lips become a ruler when they turn their glances away
Does anyone even know how the genuine you looks?
When they peer past the front of ‘business man;’
Does anyone ever offer to hold the flood gates so you can let down your walls and rest?
And would you even let them if they did?
