It's all about puting on fronts and having to conceal who you really are, and so unsure about yourself, you keep things bottle up; although, you want nothing more than scream this is me.
Like a façade
My face for you is nothing more
Than pretense and fabrication.
A different face for each singular place
Depending on who you are
determines which one I wear.
I’m suffocating inside
One for work, quiet and reserved
Aren’t my screams heard?
I want to offer my opinion and off-kilter insight.
But I bite my tongue because I may come across as dumb
I feel the hurt.
My breath grows short.
I feel like I’m dying.
Build up the façade, hide what’s deep inside
And wonder, when can I be just me?