I lie to myself.
By saying it will all be fine.
Hopefully one day
It will be, when my life isn't on the line.
But until then,
I will write my story with an ink pen.
Each word, Each phrase
Represents something more than just a phase
But my life is just full of lies.
And only I listen to all my cries.
I'm locked inside a cage of lies.
That I tell myself everyday aren't true, but they always seem to rise.
But I will keep hoping,
That one day I will be fine.