Living disorder

[Gast (Sensational)]

My soul shines through my smile, but verity is widespread.
Concerning to the fairies keeping a secret is a mistery. But you also know the secret locks you up in a cage?
Anyway the world thinks I'm a free bird.
I try to see that, too, though I nosedive in a second.
Who Stopps me on the ground? I called no-one to be there, so why should there be my rescue?
How can I ever expect something good happen to me without doing the most altruistic thing before. 
How could I ever believe that something good happens to me because I'm just worth it. Because I'm a human being and humans have bad but also good days. 
I work to the max for everything I want to achieve, but still this might not be enough to receive good. 
I found my faith and felt the warm hand around my head, but still this is not enough to receive good. 
My besties hit the knife in my back still with a smile on it. If I doesn't show that I'm dead, how would they know which impact their action has. 
And even if they killed the inside me, I feel the pain, how the love turns into groundless sadness. 
Then I build myself up again. It's a stouny, long way up to the hill again.
I take a minute to enjoy the view to fall down again.
No one sees the wounds, may be because they're too good hidden or no-one risks a look.
My last hope unreal and incalculable. 
It's me who can make the change but let myself just fall and don't think of the clash is too convenient. 
The vicious circle reinforces itself which might just stop one day, cause I can't make the final step to let me fall again. 
Trying to make things real to deal with my drugs. But can't get out. As an addicted I'm waiting for help. I'm moving to the edge of a street where I hope a stranger helps me if my close ones can't.
My will is strong but my anxiety is giant.
Here, take the levers but listen what my plans are.
My secret is locked in a glashouse, the wall is thin but shards bring fortune.
At the end the smile still sits on my face and I live carefully to don't get lost of my tiring forces to hide my real world from the real world