Grave of words

My mind's A grave of words where all I've heard goes to die.

It used to be exciting going on outings,

but now my voice goes unheard.

It wasn't A choice to be disturbed,

but some houses come with curses.

Mine made me afraid of being near others,

constant comparisons made me feel worthless.

So I dwell under covers; With darkness hiding the hurt,

As long as it keeps working and no one asks what's wrong.

Then I can keep smiling and pretending to be strong.

Each night continues to embrace me as I close my eyes shaking.

Wondering if lately I should quit before the drugs come and take me.

Having to face family or friends while faking being sober makes me doubt If I'll ever grow older.

Telling her I'm better, while drugs have been my shelter, seems to make a frozen heart colder.

How do I hug my loved ones without crying on their shoulder?

I'm dying on the inside and shy it with I'm fine.

I often tell that lie and every time I do

I feel life shorten from not telling the truth

If you've heard of me I promise it's skewed.

I'm of nothing and nothing can't be new

-Shalløw