But It’s Not the Truth

Curtains closed. Phone on silent. Heart's so loud. But the room stay quiet.

Hoodie up. Same four walls. Clock hands drag. Thoughts run stall. Staring at a

floor like it's talking back. Every little memory another cheap attack. Would they even

miss me? Loop it like a curse. Mind playing movies, every scene gets

worse. Got love in my contacts, but I ghost 'em all.

Typing "I'm fine," delete it, let it fall. In this dark- Room I feel

alone. Whole crowd waiting on my phone. They saying "we got you," but

I can't see. Depression in my head keep lying to me. Boy,