Hiding the evidence and running away, Finding a way to escape from pain, It seems like the easy way, until it isn’t, It seems like the easy way, until it gets to you. And when they ask you, you push the question away, And when they hurt you, you smile instead, It seems like the right thing, until you can’t fake it no more, It seems like the right thing, until it kills you. And these thoughts you think, suffocate, And these words that you eat, choke you, But you shove it and keep it closed, And feed it to your clone, This robotic soul, This cup overfilled, Spills on its way home, So you drink what’s left and let it wash your bones, You say you’re fine as you walk from the street light, Hunching your bag, it seems like the right thing, To never ever let yourself cry. -shoving pain down the throat
