I have a secret.

Death it’s such a pretty thing.

A perfect life,
A beautiful, loving family
Friends by my side everywhere I go.
That’s how the world sees me.
I have a perfect body
The girls all hate me and the boys all want me.
That’s what they call a perfect life.

All they know is the mask I wear.
Does it matter what I feel deep inside?
Maybe, but they’ll never know this side of me.
I can’t draw my blood and let the pain remove my misery,
They’ll see the scars.

I dream at night.
They think I dream such pretty little things.
I dream horrible, twisted scenes.
I die every time.
I will always welcome death.

People can’t see my pain.
I’m perfection in their eyes.
Not a soul knows my pain.

In my grand bed,
I see everything a girl could ever wish for.
Why is it then my eyes are drawn to one object?
A bottle of pills, it’d be so easy.
My hands don’t shake as I reach for them.

But, I know better.
I’ll continue this life,
Until, death takes pity on me.
I’m a fake, but no one knows.

The cameras flash,
I smile, my fake twisted smile.
Taking my seat, as the clip begins to roll.

My dirty little secret is once more covered up.
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Sorry about such depressing poems, I'm just not in a happy mood. Thanks for reading:)