Every day, 
as time moves on, 
I'm cursed and ridiculed.
What did I do wrong?

I smile and act,
As if my feelings aren't there.
And if they eventually leave me,
No one would care.

People call me perfect,
And look up to me.
I do not fight,
I do not bite.
And look on respectfully.

People become angry,
For how perfect I appear.
You do not see that underneath,
I just want to disappear.

I try to act perfect,
For I'm afraid of what they'd say,
If I were to mess up somehow,
It will stick with me every day.

People start to wonder,
Will today be the day? 
To remind her that she's not perfect
In every possible way.

Little do they see,
That underneath all this gleam,
Lies a little girl afraid and broken,
Because she is not allowed to be.

I am only human, 
But I cannot let it show,
For if I were to show it, 
Everyone would know.

I will not live it down,
It will not come to light.
That because of all your pressure,
I'm dying inside.

Some want me to be a machine,
So perfect and shiny,
Others want to tear me to the ground,
Just to prove they can.

No one wants me to be me,
It's either to be too perfect,
Or nothing.
Feeling like I'm hurting you from simply existing.

I am forever alone because of this.
You have no idea.
How all the shards of my heart,
Are scattered and unreal.

I cannot be fixed, but I can be broken.
And that is what people like to do the most to me.
Prove that I am broken and shattered beyond repair.
I wish to cry, but never die.
Fearing the burden death will bear.

So I am content to crying,
Alone and on my own.
I cannot expect the help from others,
Because they can't truly see me.

As I drift off to sleep at night,
I am reminded that I don't even know myself
I aim to please all around me…
Does that mean the real me has sunken down.
Down where it can never be reached.

I am far too perfect or not perfect enough.
I always try to make you smile, 
But I end up broken in the process.
So I will cry into my own empty heart.

It is what depression is good for.
Thank you for taking time to read,
And for learning about me.
Now that this poem is over,
I will go back to pretending I have heart leftover

Maybay4