She wakes up in the morning, already dreading the day.
she doesn't want to get out of bed.
it seems every day has been like this.
she can't remember when she actually looked forward to the morning.
the day drags on, the stresses piling up, pressures rising.
she keeps on a good face, pulling off a great act for everyone.
she should get an Oscar for the performance.
she finally gets home and runs to her room.
with the music blaring and the lights off she feels like she's someplace else.
she tries to hold them back as long as she can.
she hates the way it makes her feel so weak.
one by one the tears leek out of her eyes, sliding down her cheeks.
before she knows it she's spread out on her bed, sobbing into her pillow.
all she can think is that she's glad no one can see her now.
the tears soak into the pillow, the stains marking another day of hell.
will it ever get better?
they all say it will.
she desperately wants to believe them.
