A/N: It's a work in progress.


Admissions

Scream the truth and whisper your fears,
the honesty nobody wishes to hear.
Tell me the secrets that plague you in sleep,
the demons in closets, lies hidden deep.

The concerns I hold close, things never revealed,
behind masks and layers are secrets concealed.

(I admit:)
I'm confused and conflicted, not as tough as I seem,
appearance deceiving, I'm ripping at the seams.
An actress at heart, it's hard to admit
that my illusion is weak. Sometimes I want to quit.
How would you react and what would they say
if I broke down, told you that I'm not okay?
My smile a lie, deceitful half-truths,
consistently fleeting. I'm sick of the ruse.

Scream the truth and whisper your fears,
the honesty nobody wishes to hear.
Tell me the secrets that plague you in sleep,
the demons in closets, lies hidden deep.

The concerns I hold close, things never revealed,
behind masks and layers are secrets concealed.

(I admit:)
There are times when I want to let go
of the "progress" I've made. Something nobody knows.
"Time heals all wounds," they say, on my soul and the flesh,
but the cliché is a lie. I still bleed, I confess.
I'm still plagued by hunger and my stomach aches,
because I forgot this pain's depth and made past mistakes.
You'd be angry, I know, disappointed and scared
If you discovered this skeleton: I'm not really repaired.

I can't scream the truth, I won't whisper my fears,
because the honesty I hide you would not like to hear.
I will never disclose secrets plaguing my sleep,
I'll keep demons in closets. My lies hidden deep.


A/N: I admit: This is the best I can do.