False Impressions
My mind uses my body as a crutch.
My smile is used to hide too much.
The brown eyes that I often wish were blue,
Shed so many tears but never give away any clues.
My laugh that sounds like an echo of my soul.
Not even that gives away that Im not whole.
The skin that keeps me from fading,
Rarely scars so no one can see my paintings.
Now its time for my brain to come together.
To make all my pain as light as a feather.
Only a few hear my confessions.
Then they, too, see my false impressions
Copyright © Crystal Arney | Year Posted 2018
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