so much weight is held in the question of,
"am i faking it?"
do i really need help?
am i actually sad?
do i only do this for attention?
what if i'm faking, and what if i'm a fool?
do i really stim?
am i only pretending?
do i only mimic others?
what if i'm faking, and what if i'm 'okay'?
am i really anxious?
am i really depressed?
am i really autistic?
questions start to stab at my mind.
they don't leave for days.
YOU ARE READING
collections of stardust
Poetrycoincidences versus lumps of stardust. a thought dump in "poetry" form - you know, when you space things out and hope they look like poetry.
