Everyday I tell lies. Not for my own reasons though. But to help you not worry about me. I would love if you didn't fret over my well being as to your own if that makes any sense at all. Don't leave me.

I put on a false smile and tell you I'm fine or okay. Creating a fabrication of an unknown place; I can seek paradise. I'm always scrupulous about what I talk about. Afraid you might see through me. I need you.

I bottle all despondency. Knowing people would ask the tantamount question. The question I can't answer honestly. People say I always look sad. But sad doesn't cover the whole problem. But I can't utter the dreadful word that would lead to concern and more questions. I'm not fine.

I cry alone. Telling myself everything will be fine with no help. Hoping in the future, this illness I know I have, will desert its presence before me. After I finish my daily tears, I replace my broken smile with another false smile. Behind this smile, is an abandoned soul with a phrase repeating like a mantra. Help me…

I complain of being alone; with no "partner". With no one who is there to love me for me. When on the inside, it's just another lie. What I truly need is a shoulder to cry on. Who will support me through this opaque time. A best friend.

Though I think of demise quite frequently, I wouldn't do an intentional thing that would bring bereavement to those I love and care about. I'm just too cordial. I need you more than ever.