Is emotional immaturity contagious?
When did I get this sick?
When did I get so broken that I started not only allowing but linking broken things too?
Do I love broken promises too?
If you like one thing, you like it all.
There's no changing.
No turning back.
No smiles either. Not real ones at least.
But tomorrow you'll laugh, you'll sing, you'll dance, you'll be happy even when that fake little mask has to become your face.
And you'll become such a good liar that you won't recognize between that and the truth.
What's real doesn't matter anymore, only your cover.
Only the beautiful picture you're painting.
One day that'll be reality.
Until then... keep crying in the dark and smiling to the crowd.
Merci pour la lecture!