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Description
Pretend

Fake smiles and phony laughs.
Nobody knows the real you,
because you won't let them.
Put on a show,
act happy for those who don't know that you aren't.
Be pleasent and patient with those who anger you....
Fuck it.
No one knows who you are,
because they don't care to.
It's written in bold letters that you are screaming for help,
but they can't see it,
can they?
Why?
They are stupid,
worthless,
failures of.....
No,
don't lie.
You feel like you are the REAL failure,
It's in your eyes.
The game you play,
the one where pain doesn't exsist.
It's not true.
You know what pain is.
Those feelings you have inside.
All that self hate,
is burning your body up like fire.
You hate your hair,
your face,
the way you laugh,
your crooked teeth,
how fat you are,
your carrier in general.
Not to mention all the things you've seen.
Sometimes you want to sow up your mouth,
ears,
and eyes.
Your only escape is forbidden and unreachable.
So you lay in bed at night,
and for once you let yourself be you.
Like ice drops in a desert,
the tears dripping down your cheeks heat up with the sorrow you hold in.
Your hands clutch your chest,
your scalp,
your waist,
yourself.
You want to make sure you are still there.
Ressurance you're not a ghost yet.
The knife blade drops to the counter,
with a small 'clink',
and you wake up startled by your own nightmare.
The relief will never come,
it seems to you.
You wonder if you should show everyone who you truly are,
but your answer is always the same.
'No,
who would ever love some one like ME?'
Death has not come,
even if you wish it would.
Get up,
one more day.
Be a fake again,
that nothing is wrong and that everything will be all right.
That's what we do.....
us pretenders.

Description
Pretend

Fake smiles and phony laughs.
Nobody knows the real you,
because you won't let them.
Put on a show,
act happy for those who don't know that you aren't.
Be pleasent and patient with those who anger you....
Fuck it.
No one knows who you are,
because they don't care to.
It's written in bold letters that you are screaming for help,
but they can't see it,
can they?
Why?
They are stupid,
worthless,
failures of.....
No,
don't lie.
You feel like you are the REAL failure,
It's in your eyes.
The game you play,
the one where pain doesn't exsist.
It's not true.
You know what pain is.
Those feelings you have inside.
All that self hate,
is burning your body up like fire.
You hate your hair,
your face,
the way you laugh,
your crooked teeth,
how fat you are,
your carrier in general.
Not to mention all the things you've seen.
Sometimes you want to sow up your mouth,
ears,
and eyes.
Your only escape is forbidden and unreachable.
So you lay in bed at night,
and for once you let yourself be you.
Like ice drops in a desert,
the tears dripping down your cheeks heat up with the sorrow you hold in.
Your hands clutch your chest,
your scalp,
your waist,
yourself.
You want to make sure you are still there.
Ressurance you're not a ghost yet.
The knife blade drops to the counter,
with a small 'clink',
and you wake up startled by your own nightmare.
The relief will never come,
it seems to you.
You wonder if you should show everyone who you truly are,
but your answer is always the same.
'No,
who would ever love some one like ME?'
Death has not come,
even if you wish it would.
Get up,
one more day.
Be a fake again,
that nothing is wrong and that everything will be all right.
That's what we do.....
us pretenders.