Throw out the fishing line,
I get a bite every time.
With all the lies I can conjure, I smile.
And they actually believe I'm fine.
I see so many who would be willing to listen.
If I were willing to try to explain what it is I feel.
But something within makes me believe,
it is only right to have it concealed
I try to gather the strength and courage to tell someone.
But that courage is one I can't seem to find.
So my fears, worries and tears,
remain truly and respectfully mine.
The only strength I manage to possess
is to not drag that blade across my wrist.
But the problem remains to be,
I'm not sure how long my strength will persist.
