So I give the impression that I’m happy.
I suppose I always have something to talk about.
Some people might say I live life to the fullest,
and others might comment that I’m just too hyper.
I’m clumsy, and people find it funny how I fall up
a stairwell with a completely overflowing lunch tray.
No one else is like me because I’m super unique.
The thing is, I’m different at home.
Not a single person knows the real me.
Outside, I may look confident,
but inside I’m super insecure and sensitive.
I always worry that people will make fun of me,
and they won’t like me.
That part of me never gets unshielded, so until then,
I guess I’ll continue pretending to be what I’m not.
Occasionally, people that do that are better off.