You see a bubbly, energetic person.
I don't feel it.
You think that I am bursting with self-confidence.
I'm not.
You think I feel light as a feather.
The world is resting on my shoulders.

Why must I always pretend to be happy. Why do I have to hide what I am feeling. If I even so much as whisper that I am a little down, then I am whining. Why do I always have to listen to your problems, but yet I can never unburden myself. I feel as if I'm tumbling down a long spiral path which has no way to go up. Only down. What must I do to attract a little attention. Shout out your name. Pull my hair. Draw blood. If I were to slowly disappear, would you notice. Or would you just take your complaints to the next counter. While I am your shoulder to cry on, who is mine...