Under Cover

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.