Fake External, Real Internel

Rolling around,
Backwards and forwards.
The thoughts in her head,
Made it a struggle it get out of bed.

She was ignored, looked over,
come around again,
further and further those thoughts would spiral
and not go to plan.

She'd jump out the door,
hop into her car.
She was ready to face another excruciating day
with nothing but a crooked, fake smile. 

Later, she'd go back 'home' again, 
right to where the pain all began.
Where the smoke was, by the minute, thickening
and the emotional abuse was sickening. 
But instead of fighting back and avoiding the violence, 
She'd resort to drugs to hush her thoughts to silence.