Slipping
Synthetic smiles stretched until they tear...
Constant strangling pain struggling for air...
Ice cold veins, warmed by blackened despair...
There's a stone in your throat
and
you know you're laughing on cue.
Suspended in sticky isolation,
your struggling pulls you deeper
and ties you tighter
inside this web of little white lies
about your state of mind.
"It's a beautiful day," you say
yet storm clouds pulse
and pound behind your smile.
















