There's agony. There's unrest. But no one can see it.
It's deep in my soul.

Beneath the practiced bravado and fabricated jokes...
Behind the humor and the self-loathing role...

There are sleepless nights
spent worrying behind closed doors.
Wondering, why I am the way I know myself to be.

There are inconsolable tears and questions I don't have the answer to.

The same ideas repeat over and over.

Same fear pricking at my heart.

Same blankness on my face

Same bleakness in all the days

This will keep on. Not too worry.

How long have I got anyways...