Imperfect Me

The fake smile always sticks on my face.
The happy friend is who I was born to be.

Sad, exhausted, sick of being so supportive, all of that bottled up inside.

Putting yourself down to make others feel better.
You are so good at soccer. I’ll never be as good at shooting.

Your opinion doesn’t matter. It never will.

Your joy, your excitement, maybe when you found a new talent.
It’s all meaningless.

All those emotions will stay in a plastic water bottle in my room
Under my bed. Away from everyone.

Being sad around others isn’t an option.

Don’t let anyone know how you feel. It’s too distracting.

If you hide your feelings, you are helpless.
But when you express them, no one is here to help.

Don’t let them see you at night, when you are crying in your bed alone.

You need to be strong and take “jokes.”
Don’t ever crack under pressure. You are supposed to be perfect.

Let people say things that will make you want to cry.
Act like you don’t care. You are fine.

Don’t let them look behind the perfect smile.