Living Dead

Sometimes I wonder if I have already died,
and I’m “living” as a ghost in my own body.
There were so many times I should have cried
but my eyes were dry or the tears came out empty.
I have never raised a fist when angry,
whenever I could I would just swallow my pride.
I fake a smile when I know I should be happy
and I laugh even when feeling no joy inside.
The only thing that I have left is fear
but my nerves can be calmed when I reassure
It would not matter if I were to disappear;
being alive has to be so much more.


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