rusty car engine hidden by a shiny exterior
wheezing as i try to catch up on the racetrack
windshields of other cars pristine and superior
mine clouded by six inches of mud and tack
in the middle of the circus is where i stand
the biggest clown with an invisible cloak
yelling with a microphone; waving my hands
and yet the audience doesn't hear my jokes
i'm terrified of talking to people
paralysed by the fear of their judging eyes
my social skills cripplingly feeble
but i wear a smiling, laughing disguise
my devil built the corridors of my mind
winding with no map to guide me out
a million drill sergeants guard its confines
flooding my interiors with incessant self-doubt
bite the apple to its core and you will see
a tiny child who just wants to be liked,
who refuses to admit she's lonely
or how deeply desperately she wants to die