Ghosts Of The Past

I think it’s unfair

To suggest

I use my childhood

As a shield

When, in fact,

It’s the way they act

That makes me

Unwilling

To yield

For Our Own Good

You never
see the
worst of
my illness
because
I hide it
from you

For you
to know
the truth
about me
would just
tear me
in two

So I’ll
paint
on a
smile and
pretend
that I’m
fine

For
doing so
protects
both
your
sanity
and mine