Sometimes people tell me that I'm perfect

All things considered, I am-

On the outside of course;

My inside still needs work

More work than I'm willing to admit

The pain needs to be washed clean

The happiness refreshed

The love rekindled

People see what they want to see

I don't think that will change

I don't think I could stand it if it did

People see the truth in the lies they tell themselves

If your outside is pretty, then surely, your inside must be too

But what they don't realize,

Is the curtains that keep them from looking inside me

Are also the only things keeping me together.


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