“don’t ask me how i’m doing, i’m gonna lie to you
i feel the need to please my people, it’s just what i do”

you hear the first verse for the first time,

but it doesn’t connect yet.

that’s okay—

you’ll get there.

you continue

but listen this time—

“what do you mean you can’t talk right now?
i know i was a burden”

tears stream down your face.

why are you crying?

why did this hurt?

what changed?

“no-one wants to talk to me when i’m really hurtin’

and this is why i lie, why i smile and fake it all”

are you just lying to your family?

they can’t know—

smile,

just smile.

“so turn it off, pretend again, that everything’s okay

save the mental breakdown, save the tears, ignore the pain

cause the more you open up, the more it fuckin’ hurts”

wait until you’re in your room,

then you can break.

don’t break in front of your family.

they won’t understand.

they will think you should be locked up.

they will cry.

they don’t deserve to cry,

especially over you.

you don’t deserve their care.

take deep breaths.

don’t panic yet.

“every time i open up i know what you say, don’t talk about it

it’s like you’re so far gone you think i’m insane, don’t talk

you said be honest and you just walked away, don’t talk about it

no matter what i do it’s always the same, don’t talk”

retreat.

retreat.

retreat.

you can feel the tears building up.

you need to get out.

you get to your room

and close the door.

knock.

knock.

the door opens.

it’s your mom,

‘are you okay?’

you try to lie,

but she won’t believe you.

you know that she doesn’t actually want to know

because it paints them in a bad light.

‘i’m not the villain,’

she tells you as if you’re a small child.

“i don’t need you to be fake, i needed someone to talk to”

she leaves.

you are alone.

alone.

no one will ever be there for you.

sob.