It is not by choice,
We who remain in quiet emptiness,
It is against our will,
That we feel,
As if though those who surround us,
Force us to a corner,
By their words,
And meaningless empathy,
So forgive me if I don't feel like smiling,
Laughing,
When I'm drowning,
Falling,
And suffocating,
On those nice words,
And beautifully tragic memories,
So forgive me if I'm not kinder,
Less cruel,
Less happy,
But I can't,
I can never be something I'm not,
I can never,
Act,
Pretend,
Wear a mask,
Of all that is,
Happy.
YOU ARE READING
Void.
RandomPoetry & extracts from books I'll never write. This traumatizing collection of extracts were written when I was 12 - don't say I didn't warn ya'll.