The real me

Nobody knows the real me,

The one who tends to cry alone,

Wondering when she will be free,

Before she is finally thrown.

Nobody knows the real me,

The one who is about to snap,

Pondering who she's meant to be,

Is life just one, big, awful trap?

Nobody knows the real me,

The one who's thoughts eat me alive,

"I just want to give up" she pleas, 

But from me, death they do deprive.

Nobody knows the real me,

The one who always seems so sad,

"How does one become so carefree?",

I ask, "How does one stay so glad".

Nobody knows the real me, 

For i'm very good at lying,

No one asks me to spill the tea,

So I stay silent, whilst crying.