So, what's the point?
I forgot how it's like to smile and mean it for more than 2 hours.
I forgot how it's like to be a lovely person, if that ever happened.
I forgot how it feels to live and like it.
Now I just exist. Or nearly so.
So tell me what's the point of living a life faking a smile fucking every hour of your day, pretending to be so fucking nice and adorable just for them to like you and admit you into a job you don't really need and pretending to live, plus pretending to yourself that YOU ARE REALLY LOVING to live this way.
What's the point?
Tell me about it and I'll tell you why I am so fucking ME, but it doesn't mean that I'm really fucking proud of this. Make me understand you as I try to do the same.
YOU ARE READING
Master pretender
PuisiSometimes things have to go very wrong before they can go right. Highest rank: 1 // Poetry © Copyright. All rights reserved by kiddingafi