Inhale. Now Push. Exhale.
Rinse and repeat. And now I'm smiling because I can feel the soreness.
No. I'm hiding my teeth because they're ugly.
And my eyes are less ugly when they're mad, mad enough to make you concerned, so I'll keep looking mad.
I tell myself I won't smile anymore, always be mad. I'll work out to be as strong as you.
Then maybe you'll see me as someone else.
But being around you, I can't be mad, I laugh too, and I feel so- weak.
You're like a disease. Because everything I work for just drops dead when I see you.
Maybe it's a good thing. Because you haven't left me. Yet.
So do I still change?
If in the end it might not even matter...
My heart is tired now.
"You look sore."