Sleeves pulled down in the heat of July,
Fake a laugh, brush off the question why.
Mirror whispers, “You’ll never heal,”
But the truth’s too sharp, too raw to reveal.
I’m a mosaic of broken glass,
Shattered pieces in a fragile mask.
Every line’s a story I won’t tell,
Hiding hell in the skin where I dwell.
So I cover the cracks,
Keep the world intact.
Wear my silence like a shield,
Pretend the pain’s not real.
If they see, they’ll never understand,
These scars weren’t meant for another hand.
Shadows stretch, but they don’t fade,
Haunted by the marks I made.
I’m a painter with a brush of despair,
Every stroke is a burden I bear.
I’ve got a secret, it screams inside,
In the safety of fabric, I confide.
Beneath the surface, I suffocate,
A quiet storm I’ll never escape.
So I cover the cracks,
Keep the world intact.
Wear my silence like a shield,
Pretend the pain’s not real.
If they see, they’ll never understand,
These scars weren’t meant for another hand.
Maybe one day I’ll let it show,
Let the light touch what I don’t want to know.
But for now, I’ll keep it hidden away,
‘Cause I don’t know what they’d say.
Sleeves pulled down in the heat of July,
It’s a secret I keep until the day I die.
Every scar’s a chapter I erase,
Hiding the truth behind my face.