shortcake

I don't want to be

here anymore

where

everyone who knows me

can see me

hear me

notice me

judge me

point at me

and laugh

I wonder

do they notice

that my mask

is cracking?

even after all the layers

of glue,

even though it isn't very strong?

After all,

it is made of terrified screams

for help

and false love

false promises

false hope

from everyone around me.

you ask if I'm okay

but my stupid brain

overthinks everything

and can't figure out

whether you really mean it or not.

Or if you even care.

I just have to nod my head

and not say anything

in order for me to

keep myself from crying

you ask if I'm okay,

but when I nod my head,

you probably know that I'm lying.

If you didn't know before,

you do now.

Everyone in my home

(can I even

call it that anymore?)

wishes I was gone

or even dead.

sometimes,

that "everyone"

includes me.

Because even with all of

the little moments

the small things

that are supposed

to make you happy,

they don't.

They don't make me

happy.

And I'm still

a failure.

But I'm here.

I walk through

all of the hate

all of the abuse

whether it be

verbal

mental

and sometimes,

the occasional physical.

I walk through it

even if I hate

every

single

second.

And

I'm

still

here.

Hopeless

and lost

as ever.