Pictures. Pictures, everyone in them but me.
No one notices I'm missing.
They don't know I'm there,
Or when I'm gone.

It shouldn't matter,
It doesn't.
It's a small, stupid thing,
That consumes my thoughts.

Is it worth it?
Are they worth it?
After all, they like the girl who started everything.
After all, they look at the pictures.

I told them a part of my past,
A part that scares me.
But it gets cast aside,
Lost in the chaos of daily life.

I just want to scream
I just need to scream.
But I'm not allowed to,
Since others are hurting, and do my feelings really matter?

Why can't they see how much it hurts,
How much I cry,
When I look at the
Pictures without me.

Sharing them with me,
Practically flaunting them in my face.
Casually wounding me,
But I don't let it show.

Smile, nod.
Mask on,
Emotions gone.
No one cares about the pain they cannot see.

If I keep it hidden,
It won't be there.
Smile, nod.
Look at the pictures.