Unaware.

How can we dream when the things that we see, 

fill us with fear and keep us from peace? 

Our hearts spill of hurt from the pain that we keep, 
So we beg for relief; 

For silence; 

For sleep. 

Her closets are filled with the secrets she hides, 

A pink little case with her treasures inside. 

Broken clocks stop the time, she sips on her wine, 

Until the pain rushes in and takes over her mind. 

He stands and he paints all alone in his room. 

Drinking fast to forget, headphones blasting a tune. 

As he gulps it away, his hurt rushes in; 

A scene on repeat, plays again and again. 

She covers her face to hide the tears in her eyes. 

Pretends she’s okay and refuses to cry. 

Her throat burns with flames as she stares at the glass. 

She takes a breath in, and puts on her mask. 

Pretending he’s fine, his focus is work. 
But below his calm surface, rumbles deep seeded hurt.  

Maintaining the image, it's not about fun. 

While he chases his pain, with no where to run. 

The mirror reflects back, as she stands and she stares. 

She is frozen in place, she is crippled with fear. 

Still alone in her head when her friends are around, 

She wants to rise up, but the pain pulls her down. 

He does what he does, but it’s all he can do. 

Pretends it’s all good, though he knows it’s not true. 

His mind wonders off, to a place of unknown. 

An unbearable pain, behind a face made of stone. 

She preaches her thoughts and gives her advice, 

but makes her decisions without thinking twice. 

So she runs from her pain, glass filled to the brim.

She wants to let go, but instead holds it in. 

He dances and sings, makes his way through the crowd. 

Entertains the whole room, as he spins round and round. 

His laughter is loud to cover the screams he holds in, 

He sings through the hurt and forces a grin. 

Her thoughts become dark and she wants to forget. 

She paces around, and refuses to sit. 

Her hands start to tremble, as the anxiety sets in. 

So she sneaks to the bathroom and shuts herself in. 

Behind the closed doors, they still feel unsafe. 

But no one can see what actually takes place. 

The things that they hide, the dark secrets within. 

It is You. 

It is Me.

It is Her.

It is Him.