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HOW DO THEY KNOW THE REAL ME?

All my friends think that they know me,
But they only see
Parts me that I put on display.
They never listen to what I say.
So, how do they know the real me?

From miles away
They can see my fake smiles.
I hide all my tears and fears from them.
They rarely know what I am thinking
Because it is usually to depressing.
So, how do they know the real me?

They think that I am happy and shy,
But they don’t know that all I want to do is die.
I don’t talk much because in afraid of what might come out of my mouth.
I always feel like my life is heading south.
So, how do they know the real me?

They read all my poems about depression and hurt but they don’t see what’s inside my soul.
If they ever look inside me they won’t be able to stop shivering because inside me is so cold.
My heart hurts
And my soul screams,
But no one will listen to my silent plead.
So, how do they know the real me?

I stand there like everyone else,
Acting like everything is normal,
But really feeling terrible.
I smile when I want to cry.
I breathe when I want to die.
So, how do they know the real me?

At night I cry myself to sleep.
It seems like I’m always thinking about cutting myself very deep.
I punch things with my fists,
And hold knifes to my wrists,
But my friends don’t know this.
So, how do they know the real me?

My friends say they know me
But they only see
The parts of me, which I display.
I smile when I want to cry.
I breathe when I want to die.
I punch things with my fists
And hold knifes to my wrists,
But none of my friends know this.
So, I ask how do they know the real me?
How?