Black when it was White

You don't know how I feel because you weren't there. You weren't underneath  a 180 pound male who thought it was just play fighting and wrestling. You didn't feel the exhaust or the hear the fear in my throat when a condom was being unrapped over your head while your hands are pinned down.You didn't know that that was the beginning of a habit I started. A habit called the easy way out. I get through my days by putting make up on, smiling, and keeping up with social media. People tell me i don't need make up, I have a wondeful, smile, and I get 40+ likes on my instagram pictures. The make-up isn't to make me look better, its to keep me from crying. The smile isn't because I'm happy, its because it hurts to frown. I upload pictures almost everyday, so I don't isolate myself and convince myself that I'm not liked. I do these things to refrain from the darkness I would shade everyone in if they knew. You didn't have to know that I felt like this all this time. It wasn't your fault because you weren't there. If I had blamed you, you would be six feet under with me. Moving on was the only option I had. And the easy way out was to do so. The darkness seeped through and it did what it was meant to do. I pushed everyone away, I pushed my family away, and I shaded myself from my own eyes. I don't know that girl that was there that night, but I know that she died. But now that you know, you can get to know me, I'm the easy way out.