They see me smiling, laughing, enjoying life,
but inside there is screaming, crying, and hatefulness of the world, I pretend I'm fine when, truth is, I'm dying on the inside, feeling alone and torn. On the outside, they see paradise, heaven, and bliss, but on the inside there is eternal flames that devour me each and everyday, along with the havoc and chaos. Can't anyone see the forced smile at the edges of my lips or hear the misery in my voice? Can you see the hidden tears at the corners of my eyes or how distant I've become? Or am I so good of an actor that you're blind? Or do you see it, but don't care? The girl they think I am, is nothi