layers

i can feel the way my skin peels off in layers from
the burning acid of memories and times that i would
rather forget (but i've been told that memories are the
things that we can't even erase with time). yet even now,
i'm still scratching at skin with a finger down my throat.

i don't see why "failure" isn't written clearly across my
face because too many times, i tried to do what i thought
was right, try it but fail in worst ways than what i played it
out to be. and i can't stop pretending because behind this
mask, people don't see how i really am (too weak, empty,
trapped, broken, hollow inside) and i (somehow) find that
to be a comfort (because i've hurt for too long). you do
nothing but hide behind silence and yourself, pretending
that i'm nothing to you (but i know how that feels already).

i swear you wouldn't understand this if i tried to explain
it to you face-to-face but i'll never find that out because
i'm still afraid to look you in the eyes when i told myself
i shouldn't be and that this should be easy. (i guess "liar"
should be drawn into skin as another reminder of you.)