You put on your glassy mask
So I'll only see
The version of yourself
You contrived for me.
You slip on your suffocating shoes
So you can walk on
Like you're not gasping for air,
And nothing is wrong.
You tie up your hair tightly
So you can pretend
You're that pretty little girl again
With those once loyal friends.
You slide up your dejected glasses
So I can't see your bleeding scars
Hiding behind the facade—
I don't know who you really are.
what do I do when the leaves are dead?
what do I do with this road ahead?
i'll walk the stretch, and clear the way,
but my feet won't move today.
what do I do when these trees are surreal?
I cried in silence again.
The tears streamed down
And made puddles on my carpet floor
I'm lying on again.
I watched the minutes change again.
the bus driver glared at me
like i was a sin to society;
he called me a fag—under his breath,
and i got in my seat like nothing happened.
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