Empty trash now

Try not to call-

But I don't know how.

Every time I fall I pick myself back up

And sadness tends to follow-

Jumping is my last act of grace,

Because without emotions, I'm hollow.

When I hit the concrete

I'm finally shattered;

It's complete-

She is the concrete

And he is the rain

She is the track

At a young age

I learned there are scarier things

Than dark figures, demon's rage,

How is it bright

When the sky is a cloud?

And when all is silent

I am not me

But how can this be?

Oh that's right,

I don't shed any light

On how I think and feel

I'm sick of this feeling;

A feeling that can't be named.

I stare at the ceiling,

Why should I hide?

Why should I cry?

I have worked and tried.

I seem to always lie:

I'm okay.

I don't want to talk about it.

I had a good day.

I just happened to forget.

Why?

What have I to lose

By being honest?

Who might I amuse

When I'm at my rawest?

What might happen

If I didn't trap in