A nice smile, soft brown eyes,
A look that’s worry free.
She seems nice the way she says “Hello.”
She seems happy the ways she laughs.
She seems put together, maybe that’s the way she is.
Maybe is what they think.
Maybe is what I let them believe.
Maybe is what I let them see.
Behind the curtain it’s a different world.
Behind the curtain she is no pearl.
Behind the curtain she is afraid to be.
Behind the curtain you’re not allowed to see.
My smile has been pieced together.
My eyes have been the creator of river of tears.
My image is a fictional me.
Every hello is said sweetly because I know they can save a day.
Every laugh is true because I know they can brighten another sad soul’s day.
Every piece of me is a heart that is strung onto its last heartstring hoping for a better day.
Hoping for a better way to live
Hoping for a better way to say the words I refuse to give
Hoping for a better soul to tell me to not give in.
Behind the curtain I am desperate.
Behind the curtain I don’t want people to worry about me.
Behind the curtain I die a bit more every day.
In front of that curtain its shut so tight.
In front of that curtain there is no fight.
In front of that curtain I only choose to exude light.
Because behind the curtain is a dark dull place;
Because behind the curtain is where fear engulfs me whole;
Because behind the curtain there is no soul.