Step. Step. Step.
Every step down that hall
I pretend that I'm okay.
Faking the girl I always was.
Good friends I do have,
although I am quiet.
Undisturbed by most of the popular,
still others are friends.
An only obvious change
A lack for my regular T-shirts.
Concealed behind long sleeves and jeans,
my arms show
every horror that's come my way.
Step. Step. Step.
Every step a lie
A cover up of what I feel inside
Step. Step. Step.
Pulling them along
To believe I'm okay.
Step. Step. Step.
Every step is one closer
To the end.
Step. Step. Step.
Gone
Author notes
Prompt 6: Tell me about your alter-ego, whether it's the terrified little child locked up inside or the big, bad bastard that you show the world. Tell me what goes on inside, or why you need to act like a cocky git.
A contest entry
- Die Like You Mean It by High-on-Death.
300 points, ended April 20, 2008, 11 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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