I wrote this poem in early January, when I thought I had hit rock bottom (I hadn't. Rock bottom came about two weeks later.). I didn't feel like sharing it back then, but now that I'm moving steadily towards the other end of the spectrum, it feels okay to post it here.
Covers can be good. By keeping up a cover of coping, I was able to keep people at bay. This probably sounds odd, but I was so fragile back then that if someone had shown me a little too much kindness, I would have cracked. And it felt as though the tiniest crack in my cover would quickly turn into a massive fault line. So the cover was good. It did its job and I got through the dark days without cracking wide open.
I was longing for it all to be over, so I could allow myself to fall apart, but once the worst was over I no longer had to hold anything together, and therefore I no longer felt the need to fall apart.
However, you shouldn't judge a girl by her cover. It's a coping mechanism, that's all. Don't pry, just keep an eye on her. She'll be really grateful to you for that.
Love Neens xx