why must people sometimes accuse love to be a crime?
we are welcomed with expectations
which we are expected to meet
sometimes we try to pretend
to be someone we're not
because either way we'll be told
we need to be better than we are
and it won't stop
so we put on our masks
if only for awhile
one second or forever
it doesn't really matter
but in the end we go back to ourselves
or at least who we genuinely feel we have become
through the years of blunders and guilt
because we, and our masks; they are not always so compatible
we cry ourselves to sleep
just another subtle reminder
we are still alive after all
in the end we still have our hearts on our sleeves
and no one ever notices
that they are still beating
showing us our true feelings
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when you are simply too far gone,
how can you try when hope has ceased until it has become none?
why must anyone ever think that to be who you feel you are is so wrong?
YOU ARE READING
Feeling Indigo, how about you?
PoetryJust a thing for random stuff that sometimes go through my head. I think most of these are my failure attempts at a poem but I can't really write anyway.
