She’s not who she says she is.

She says she’s happy.

She says with a smile on her face that everything is okay.

She laughs at jokes, that aren’t even that funny to her.

She comforts people, when she’s the one who is in need of comforting.

She cries, when no one is around.

She’s silent, when it comes to her emotions.

She’s dreading, each waking moment.

She moves on forward, hoping that helping others would help her.

But it just hurts her more.

She wishes someone could be the person who treats her the way she treats everyone else.

She wishes that she didn’t have to ask out loud.

She stay quiet and waits patiently.

For someone to come and save her.

She’s not who she says she is.