and when i think of happiness, all i can do is cry.
i hope someone will swipe away the hand that is squeezing my heart right now
and stop making me ache.
i wish someone can shovel away the gloom blanketing my heart
and make it light with madness again.
cause i believe madness is better than pain.
it masks it,
makes it
less hurting
less obvious
less important.
and when it's when my lips are numb and hurting with smiles and laughter
that i realise
i'm pretending again.
i can be pretty convincing when i want to, i believe.
and these times would be those that i'm not happy
not deep-in-the-guts happy.
that i just wanted myself to.
enough to make me wanna make it real.
but it doesn't work that way.
i realised
it's always people who pissed me off.
but when i'm angry
it's almost always with myself.
and i just want those edged anger to cut and pierce me
make me bleed
so i can release some of the spite
which i cannot unleash on anyone else because it's no one's fault but mine.
i guess i'm what you call depressed right now.
