I look around,
Nothing seems wrong with the picture
Until I look harder,
Deeper.
Not looking at the outside canvas we have painted ourselves to be,
But the person who we are inside
Smiling, laughing, acting ‘normal’
Joking around, drawing attention to youself
These could all be cover-ups for their hurt.
The hurt of life being crushed in their chest.
The hurt inside they are concealing.
