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I look into the mirror,
And I see that mask again.
That girl with the painted smile so fake,
It was amazing everyone bought it.
Gently, ever so gently,
I peeled off the girl that everyone thought they knew,
And revealed the monster that no one dreamed could exsist.
Its arms, my arms,
Covered in slashes so cleverly hidden.
Its face, mine as well,
Covered in scarlet tears.
This monster, my true form,
Takes that knife, our only friend,
The one that's there through everything,
And draws it across our arm,
Over and over again.
My piercing screams echo into the night,
And no one will hear.
Face still stained,
I put on that mask, the one with the painted face,
The old, innocent me.
And no one is the wiser.
No one ever will know,
Because no one can reach me.
This I must bear alone,
Most painful secret.
- by Lady Alice Road Kamelot |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 12/31/2008 |
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- Title: Painful Secret
- Artist: Lady Alice Road Kamelot
- Description: I like comments so I can bounce of those to make better poems. Just please don't be too rude. Thanks to all those people who were kind! You really brightened my day. Thanks again all and Happy New Year!
- Date: 12/31/2008
- Tags: painful secret
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Comments (4 Comments)
- senribear - 04/21/2009
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My friends have been through the cutting stage. They tell me that it is like that, it is like you hide yourself from everybody, put a mask on.
I'm glad that you wrote this poem. It might make people realise that this is a serious problem... - Report As Spam
- Dracs_Girl - 01/08/2009
- I agree with the dude below me... i used to cut myself... it was the only thing i could do that was my choice.... like my choice to be myself and be insecure.... idk i stopped a while ago but i still have that urge ever once in a while
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- X-Prince Alvin-X - 12/31/2008
- Sounds to me like a cutting experience. (I'm a cutter) We all wear masks, metaphorically speaking... (Ok I got that from "The Mask" by Jim Carrey) This poem is a perfect example of what we hide from public eyes, due to possible scorn from others, or ridicule. We pretend to be happy, because deep down we need friendship. Think about it, if you'd act like your true self all the time, there will be less chance for friendship or even normal conversation. Interesting piece.
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- samoht05 - 12/31/2008
- i love how truthful this poem is
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