Drug Your Misery Away

So we're scared.
You're scared.
You'd do anything to prevent admitting it, but you are.
And so am I.
What else could we be?
When the world is too real for us to want to understand, when the universe closes in on us, when the nature of things pains us to the point that we can barely deal with it, that we can't think of ways to circumstance it.
Of course we're scared.
Just not that everyone'll admit it...
Not everyone will know it.
But it'll stay. It'll be in the shattered pieces of your heart, your laughter, the echo of your once so proud joy, spread across the bathroom floor, there to wither, to rust, to be washed away. Your problems are drained from your present moment, all of it disappears, being replaced by an outer satisfaction, being replaced by vanity and confirmation. You need others, that barely know you, that only see you for the appearance you have, to tell you what you're worth, without spending any time looking at your true mirror image.
The one reflecting your soul.
And so you delve deeper into shallow pleasures, pretend for one more day that there is a smile on your face. If you can't make it... you fake it.
Preserve the fragile happiness.
Your shell.
Stay Put In Your Shell,
Don't Let Anyone Drug Your Misery Away,
Let It Stay Where It's Been Spilled,
On The Bathroom Floor,
The Mirror Image Of Your Soul And Who You Really Are,
Greetings from the eternal being
POET in the JAR