I really can't keep up.
Fake smiles,
Not one person batting an eyelid at them,
I'm just assumed to be tired.
That's what I say,
But I feel so low,
And, I don't think they understand.
I have to be happy around them,
For them,
But I'm so drained,
So tired,
Of just faking happy.
Yes, they bring a rarity,
A rarity of genuine laughs,
Or smiles,
Or genuine happiness,
And compassion,
But sometimes,
I feel too low,
And it doesn't not help,
It's just not helpful enough.
Maybe I'm just trying too hard,
To be who they think I am,
But if I was honest,
Would they still care for me?
Would they still be there for me?
Or would I be alone again?
I'm a human disaster,
And I'm so glad no one knows yet,
I don't want to think,
About the consequences,
I don't even want to learn of them,
I'm too scared to.
So I'm left,
To feel drained,
Drained by fake happiness.
YOU ARE READING
Just A Mess
PoésieI'm not too sure as to what this is, but I often get bored and lost in my thoughts, so why not write them out? As I wrote I created poetic sentences, lines and phrases. So, I hope they can be enjoyed despite their mainly heavy topics. This book cove...
