There is sadness in me that cuts so deep it tries to consume me. It is like a beast determined to devour. One wrong move, one wrong word, and I will be consumed.
No one knows, no one can see it. I smile through the pain. I laugh through the tears. I am the master of disguise.
Friends see me as the one they can always count on. Strangers turn to me with their pain. Dependable.
Sarcasm, quick wit and quicker reflexes are what have kept me alive. The pain I face every day when I look in the mirror motivates me to keep doing what I do. To keep others from enduring this pain.
The people I help see me as calm, cold hearted. They don’t understand their pain adds scars to my “cold” heart.
I look at you and see someone hiding their pain like me. What do you see when you look at me? Can you see past the black leather and red curls? Can you see the pain that drives me?
Who am I?