Shattering into a thousand pieces,

Each one a fragment of the illusion

I believed myself to be.

Standing in the crowd of a hundred people,

Forcing a laugh because I want it to feel right

Yet I am still so alone.

Is this my fate? To paint on a false front,

Wishing, wishing someone would see behind it.

A smile, my shield, as false as fool's gold,

Tears that I refuse to let fall even when

It would be better to water the ground.

Will I always feel like this?

A disconnect, a chasm opening beneath my feet.

Yet the faster I step back, the quicker the ground

Fractures, exposing everything I thought hidden.

Ask me what is wrong once again

And maybe, just maybe, I'll tell you the truth.

Then again, it is best you don't know.

Is this real? To look at my hands,

Wondering, wondering was to what is their use.

Actions speak louder than words

Yet I keep yelling in the dark so loudly

That the stars hide their light from me.

Will I ever find myself?

Digging a hole, one that no one can climb

In or out of. I know, I have tried, straining my

Eyes, my neck to catch one more glimpse of

Sky. But even that refused to look at my face.

My heart insists that I am not alone,

Yet my head screams that I am.

Is it hard? To rip off the mask,

Hoping, hoping that I can leave it behind.

A face so used to that screen from the world

That it feels plastic and hardly flexible.

The slightest movement might fracture it.

Will it be okay?

Carefully gathering the pieces of myself,

Gluing them back into place, some cracked,

Some crooked, some unable to be found.

Taking it one step at a time, learning it's

All right to cry, stumbling again and again.

All the while, ignoring the lure of the mask.

Is this truly living? To remember how to feel,

Knowing, knowing that I am less than perfect.

A person with so many flaws and misplaced

Pieces that she hardly knows what it would

Be like to be whole, to be one piece.

Will it ever stop?