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The real me
What you did
I need makeup, can't be your model,
I cry, So attention seeking,
I stay quiet, I'm hiding something,
I stay strong, I'm not open enough,
I open up, seemingly complaining.
How can the good be so bad?
My healing aid cuts me so deep
My reason to breathe ties my noose
Take me so high that my confidence is down.
Yes my writings rushed,
My pen scrawls, thoughts scattered, but it's raw. My honesty spills.
Not wanting attention, the opposite,
This is so you don't see the real me.
