False Front

depression spreading, uprooting a once peaceful life and throwing it into the streets of life, only to be chew up, spit out, and forever damaged.

its a twelve-o-clock nightmare

that shakes you awake from your sleep.

its the once white pillows

now streaked with mascara blackened tears.

its that dead feeling inside

when you hide beneath a deceiving smile.

its staying up later and later every single night

to avoid the awaiting horrific hell the mind inflicts on itself.

its staring at the kitchen knife when you’re alone

controverting whether self harm will mitigate the pain,

even for just a little while.

its raging music blasting on full volume to escape

the everyday taxing sounds of human life.

its hearing thunder at night in the middle of a storm

and smiling, because the storm will help keep you awake.

its late night/early morning coffee and Instagram scrolling

until I’m so drained from staying awake,

that I actually have a long and dreamless sleep.

At least that’s how I think of it.

call it what you want.

I call it desolation.

and I pray I can maintain the strength to keep up my facade.