They lied.

Pride and dignity, I have to upkeep. Grace and statuesque, I must maintain.

The sores, the tears, the sleeplessness, I have endured. I still am weeping for what I can’t attain.

It doesn’t get any better- I thought they said it will heal with time. They lied, that is a fucking crime.

Have I gone stronger? I thought I would. Apparently, I am still weak. I am still fragile. I am still sick, please cure me if you could.

I’m a weakling, fuck. I’ve got to get over it and not get stuck.

This mask I am wearing, I have worn it well. No one knows the hurt I am experiencing, I just want to hide in my shell.