I finally realized
that I'm fake.
The person I am today
is a mistake.

I always pretend,
I always lie.
On the outside I smile,
on the inside I cry.

I'm trying so hard,
saying I'm okay.
But the truth is,
I can't last one more day.

I'm here to help you,
because I can't help myself.
I can't put the blade
back upon the shelf.

I'm so sick and tired
of being a liar.
I'm tired of being a cutter,
tired of being a crier.

But those things
are what define me.
Without those things,
I don't know what I'd be.

Maybe I'd be happy.
Hell, who knows.
But that's not the way
my life goes.

I'm not happy,
I'm not fine.
I won't live long,
I'm running out of time.

But what you see
is a smiling face.
A picture of a girl
who's in her happy place.

You see the fake me,
the one people see.
You see the Mariah
I want people to see.

The bubbly Mariah,
the one who's okay.
The Mariah who
laughs all day.

You see the person,
the image I show.
But that's not who I am,
and a few people know.

I wear my sweatshirt,
I say I'm cold.
But we know that lie
is slowly growing old.

I wear a smile,
but it's slowly fading.
It's like this fake person
is very degrading.

I'm such a liar,
such a fake.
There's only so much
I can take.

My life is closing,
coming to an end.
I'm broken,
and can't mend.

God, I am so

fucking

fake.