the deluded ones [#2]

and

july 5th, 2017

and i'm a hypocrite
because i keep saying
i'm okay and that
i won't say the truth
in order to prevent your feet
from entering the loop of maniacal
emotions in my brain.

yet, learning that you didn't
say anything about the severity
of your physical pain
jabs at me in a hurtful way.

why must the hypocrisy
within me create its own pain
from everything
that is insignificant and significant?

secrets, they're everything
and nothing all at once.
hidden phrases,
trails of clues,
they are nothing when you don't
look close enough and see.

and i'm a being of secrets,
but so is everyone.
the only difference between me
and them
is that when the simplest things
are kept hidden away from me,
even if they're insignificant to say,
it still hurts the same
because i'm hypocritical,
filled with vices and idiotic sorrows
that make no sense
to anybody.