Skeleton In The Closet

It was like a skeleton,

In her closet.

Her real self,

I mean.

 

No one ever saw it,

Or no one ever

Cared to see it.

 

Eccedentesiast;

A person who hides pain

Behind a smile.

A person who she became,

Over time.

 

“How are you always happy?”

Was what they asked her,

Her answer;

“I just am”.

 

But behind that smile,

Was a girl;

Dying,

Each passing moment.

 

A girl who wanted to speak up,

And yet was shushed.

Till she started finding solace,

Being the only

Skeleton in the

Closet.

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