We Shine like Diamonds

We shine like diamonds yet mask an insufferable pain.

A pain we hide behind smiles. Behind money. Behind makeup. Behind bodies. Behind parties. Behind a screen.

We shine, we're beautiful. We're loved, we're liked. We keep telling ourselves that.

For what's a diamond that's scratched? With imperfections? ...A fake? It's unwanted. It doesn't shine so much, at least not all the time.

We're happy, we're fine. We're always fine. Fine means normal. Fine is closer to 'perfect' than 'I'm not okay'. To be perfect is to shine, and we're only allowed to shine in this world.

What we truely feel, who we truely are, that exists deep down, within. But what is within, the world cannot see. And this world wants only to see. To see the surface - that is real. That - we can touch. That - we can see.

And we crave to be seen. To feel alive, to be heard, to be perfect, to be like the rest of the world, to fit in its glass box.

So we shine on, like diamonds, or so we try.