They don't know

They don’t know I’m packing pieces of my soul away,  
Carefully folding each fragment of my heart.  
They don’t see me creating distance,  
So my absence will be less of a jagged start.  

They don’t know how soon the end will come,  
When I offer a final farewell masked in light.  
They don’t understand that each goodbye  
Is a silent prayer for a less painful night.  

They don’t know I hide beneath a veil,  
A facade of warmth that’s not truly mine.  
They don’t know I’m kind because I crave  
A touch of compassion, so genuine, so fine.  

They don’t see the tremors in my core,  
Or the weariness in my strained embrace.  
They don’t know that my goodnight kisses  
Might be the last time I grace this place.  

They don’t know the depth of my despair,  
How I yearn for release in the quiet of the night.  
When I say “I’ll see you soon,” it’s not a promise,  
But a desperate wish to fade from sight.  

They don’t know the weight of my struggle,  
The invisible scars that bleed unseen.  
They don’t know the moments of darkness  
That eclipse the brightest, fleeting dreams.  

They don’t know how I fight to keep the mask,  
To shield them from the storm inside my mind.  
They don’t know how I long for solitude,  
To escape the relentless ache I can’t unwind.  

They don’t understand that my battles are silent,  
Fought in the shadows of a sleepless mind.  
They don’t know I’m not seeking salvation,  
Just a reprieve from the ties that bind.  

I stay longer than I wish to,  
For them, I pretend to be strong.  
But they won’t grasp the depth of my sorrow,  
The quiet battle where I feel I don’t belong.  

And when they grieve, brief and shallow,  
In their sorrow, they won’t know the true cost.  
For even as I stay, holding on,  
It’s my own soul that I’ve lost.  

They don’t know how deeply I’m aching,  
How I yearn to slip from their view.  
But I’m here, enduring for them,  
In a world they’ll never fully see or knew.