My burden,

Like broken chains wrapped around my wrists

Tied around my neck,

Cutting into my flesh

Why are they even there?

I can't feel the pain anymore,

Yet, you expect me to swim in the rip currents

When my heart weighs more than lead,

And my blood filled with liquid metal.

Do you see that I’m

not well?

The factuals are not actuals

What I should be is fantasy

All that I am is broken.

All I want is to feel well.

Wholeness is something foreign,

An old memory that’s faded to gray.

I don’t even remember what it felt like.

Is that bad?

I use to be a try hard.

I’d give my 110%

Now, it’s hard to muster 50,

I hid behind my broken bones,

Complain about my physical pain,

It’s easier that way,

I can grimace and cry without question.

A broken ankle does hurt.

My injuries are my mask.

A wall of pain holding back a flood,

I can push through the pain,

I can push through the pain,

I can push through the pain,

Broken ankle,

I can still play.

If you’re more determined,

More positive,

People won’t notice a thing.

They won’t question you if you’re happy.

That’s how it works.

If I smile instead of cry,

If I laugh instead of scream,

Then they won’t notice,

They won’t notice the downward tug on my mouth,

The cracks in smiles,

The lies in my words.

They will just see the shell,

That hides the pain,

Not me.

If they knew my pain, would they stay?