Her face is a mask.
Trained to keep, retain.
The mask, sawn out of laughs and jokes and witty comments. 
Nobody really knows the truth. 
What secrets lie behind this mask she likes to bind to the deepest part of her soul.
Regret from the past, aghast from the future.
Fastening the mask against her feelings, every time she thinks she'll break.
Years of experience.
Her face full of scratches,
Bleeding from the times she's had to hold back.
Her voice is shattered, yet no one has ever listened to it.
And her heart, broken from when the sadness has shown in her face.
She looks at him, but he never looks back.
She likes to go out and look at people's eyes,
To see how they're doing in their own feeble lives. 
She envies those who free their feelings to those worth their trust,
And those who seek comfort in the presence of who they love.
She says in her mind she's  proud of herself,
For putting up a good act, for standing up yet again.
She will never forgive herself.
Yet strong she remains,
And tells herself again and again,
That the only way out is by her own strength.