the weight of pretending:
ive slipped back into the act again,
this mask i wear so well,
a smile carved from the remnants
of a soul thats gone through hell.
every laugh feels like a fracture,
every word a bitter taste,
but i hold it all together
for the sake of saving face.
this mask is heavier than before,
ive built it strong and high,
layered thick with expectation,
with all the reasons why.
im determined to seem okay
to everyone who sees,
to hide the cracks inside of me,
to disguise the way i bleed.
but every day it drains me,
this charade i have to play,
pretending im not dying
while i smile my pain away.
i dont want to hurt them,
dont want to let them see,
that im a ghost behind the curtain
of who i used to be.
im scared of their disappointment,
of the pity in their eyes,
so i keep the mask in place
and bury all my cries.
but its suffocating slowly,
this face that isnt mine,
i feel the pressure building,
crushing me from the inside.
i dont know how much longer
i can keep this farce alive,
when every breath feels hollow,
and im struggling to survive.
yet i keep on acting anyway,
even as my heart grows sore,
because hurting them with my truth
feels worse than dying more.
so i paint the mask a little thicker,
and hold it with trembling hands,
hoping no one sees the cracks
or understands my plans.
im breaking under the burden,
but ill carry it all the same,
because id rather be a liar
than be the cause of their pain.
YOU ARE READING
poetry
Poetrytrigger warning. dont expect you to read this, words are simply that. just words. but if you do i hope you enjoy 👍 and if you relate to any of these, im so sorry. (all of these are original and written by me unless its said otherwise) might also in...
