I dress myself in the softest fabrics, clothes the lightest hues.
The words that come out my mouth oh so gentle, my tone so very calm.
I hear people sing praises, about how kind, about how sweet I can be.
Each word, I respond with a smile, but each word makes me more of a liar.
I guess all I know is how to deceive. Every day, it seems like they\'re closer to noticing what\'s wrong with me.
Each day, they uncover one more of the unsavory parts of me that I keep under the wraps.
And one day, they will know that I am not the girl that they thought I was. I am not someone made to be loved.
Intimacy my weakness, care being my kryptonite. Once any of these reaches me, all I know is to break down.
After all, perfume cannot hide the smell of a corpse forever. People will know when something is rotting.