From: All Who Are

Everyone thinks I'm fine
They see my smile, my artificial, dazzling eyes
They sparkle with every lie I tell.
"I'd love to do that!" "Sure Mrs, that's not a problem!"
But it is a problem.
Everything I to uch turns to guilty, blood on my hands.
People see my hands, but they thinks they are clean
They see my smile, and think it is genuine
They see my eyes, and they think they are real
So they check me off as: Fine

But they don't see it all...
They don't see my veins curl at night
Or my nails turn into claws.
They don't see my ears bleed
Or all my bones that break.
It doesn't occur to them that my heart catches on fire every night!
And the smoke fills the room.
But it's ok.
I'm ok, because
put out
the fire

I'm "fine".

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