Used to the pretend
Getting too used to the pretend,
Not knowing what is real
Not knowing how I feel,
The emptiness persists
Holding it together while it breaks apart,
Not upset just breaking apart
This cannot be fixed, the endless walking into trouble,
Like fixing a broken vessel,
A leak fixed, three more spring up,
A calm exterior to hide the inner turmoil,
The pretend, showing everything’s good;
It may be, it may not,
In five minutes the tables could have turned.
I could be in despair, in pain,
Emotions are like a tornado of changing destruction and pain.
The only continuity if the pretend, the happiness.
There comes a point after a long time pretending where you cannot tell true from false happiness.
I guess it doesn’t matter, if true or false happiness makes you feel happy.
This is a complicated life, and my life of being used to the pretend