I'm no longer who i used to be,
but a lie,
hidden with spiteful fantasy.
no longer to worry about who i am or who i want to be,
all i know is that this person, is not me.
so sick of feeling numb,
like this level of hell doesn't even faze me.
i was lost, and aching with a broken heart.
concealed with all this pain
found an old mask and put it back on.
This isn't me, walking about with my head held high
I'm the one who sits alone in a darkened corner
crying out those tears
that never once saved me
from my fears
Ciara Owens
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fears-7/
