It's the way they see her
The way she smiles and
says no to every question
As if hiding a dirty little
secret in which she has
burried deep under those
tired eyes and pale face.
You want to uncover it,
don't you?
As you stand over me
and ask if I'm okay,
of coarse I'm going 
to say yes.
I'm obviously lying,
and I know that you
know this.
It's a game, and I'm 
winning, 
I didn't have to fall that
day, but I didn't stop 
myself.
I still have the scar,
And I still have the details
of your conserned expression
engraved inside of my mind.
It is what I wanted, and will
always want,
The need to be wanted,
The need to be questioned,
The need to be forced,
I will push you until you
push me farther into my
own self relization of
what is really wrong
with me.
Because even I can 
not answer that
question,