The Rain On Monday

Written words are the only thing my mind can find ease in.


8. Anxiety

Laughter fills the room and your gaze falls to my wrist;

your eyes dart to mine, maybe I’ll feel like I exist.

Jokes from my mouth and a smile on my lips;

nobody will notice all the scars on my hips.

Euphoria’s wearing off and I’m in a fragile state;

everybody worries, but they’re already far too late.

Teachers start to notice, students hardly care;

it’s not their faults that to me, my life is hard to bear.

Tired all the time and self-loathing everyday,

all my friends are driven farther – more and more away.

Cuts turn to scars, but bruises hardly heal; every movement

that I take I know it’s getting all too real.

Smiles from every corner, cheers from all around,

then there’s me in the middle who’s not making a sound.

“What are those lines – those marks on your arm?”

Don’t worry about me; I’m not doing any harm.

The ones that seem to notice pretend it’s just a phase;

I swear it’s just the cat – don’t give me any praise.

Sweaters and Band-Aids couldn’t mask the pain in my eyes;

it wasn’t that nobody cared, I just got real good with the lies.

Anxiety that dragged on for days at a time, and an old useless

pen that had no desire to rhyme.

“Show me your arms and I’ll make sure you’re clean,”

I told them more lies so my thighs they couldn’t have seen.

I pulled down my sleeves and makeup I bought;

I learned some new ways and to others I taught.

Seven red bracelets wrapped around each arm;

I covered up my secrets for to you they’d alarm.

Your childish eyes are what stopped me from telling,

it’s too early in your life for you to hear all my yelling.

“It was just a joke, just please relax,” fine,

it was just a cut – it was just the cat.

Lying awake at night and pondering that day,

if it weren’t for that person, I’d be happier today.

Life is just a game and I’ve found my strategy;

I know how the outside looks, but it’s not a tragedy.

So I’ll paint on my smile and dry up my eyes,

for the world won’t get to know the sound of my cries.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...