The Act

If I told you I was happy I’d be lying.
Locked in complete darkness I hide away in a corner and begin crying.
My thoughts are slowly escaping flying free.
Exposing me for who I can really be.
Why is it that no one can see?
That I’m trying to flee, from these chains that ground me to this life in the dark.
I just seek light in this infinite night.
I’m filled with fright as my emotions consume me.
I lack control, I can’t get a grasp.
A constant lapse between right and wrong.
I must be strong.
I can’t afford to remain weak-willed.
I must rebuild my mask that has cracked under pressure as the years have passed.
I need to overcome this fast!
This made up character can only last so much longer. How much longer can I keep up this act?
I’m running out of dialogue, I’ve reached the end of the script.
I must improvise or this little scene will capsize.
The curtains will close, we’ll reach the end of the show.

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This Poems Story

It’s about not feeling comfortable in your own skin, feeling the need to pretend to be someone your not for the image of perfection.