Masked
Here comes the phase
Where I put on this mask yet again
I hate to act as if I care as well
Knowing that I can’t adjust a lonely thing
Feeling so hideous
Equally inside and out
Numb it all
Even me
The rind, the coat, the imperfect
Skeleton
The everyday life of yours truly
And a girl in question of her world
My breath is consequently a lungful of rubbish
I merely don’t fit
I’m the remain of dead life
What am I doing?
The mask isn’t caught on me anymore
And it’s drooping sour
One day they’ll all understand
That I had stood ready to burn
I don’t know just how to go about it
How to hook the words on air
Not a soul pays attention anyhow
My presence is anonymous.
Copyright © Samantha Larson | Year Posted 2012
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