“It’s all in your head”,
On repeat to forestall entropy,
My mind’s in two places at once,
Needing more -
Incessantly yearning for more,
Yet overcome with gratitude
That I should receive anything at all.

Do others feel like this every time?
As if it’s something of actual substance,
A real reason to yearn,
A real reason to hunger,
As if for another form of sustenance.
Do others feel like this with a passing glance?
As if you’ve known them from the start,
A true sense of familiarity,
A true sense of belonging,
As if they’ve always weighed on your heart.
Do others feel like this every time?

I never had.

a moment of joy
a millisecond of reflection
a pang of -remorse?
a flooding of tears
a deep breath of collection
an acceptance of fate
a surge of determination

...to smother any lingering hope

The path ahead seemed narrow;
One objective, therein one route.
My naivete to myself inconceivable,
Onto others I cast all my doubt.
My own vision, my own reality -
Unchecked, unquestioned…immutable?
Can something that seems so right to me
To others seem unsuitable?
My perspective is not reality,
The opposite may be the case.
A new truth so brazen before me,
I have no option but to fall from grace.
What once I clung to with certainty
Is now tainted with regret and shame.
How can I make the right choice
When a truth and a lie seem exactly the same?

I have nothing else -
Not one person close to me.
Only ever ostensibly known,
Via some overrated reality.
Truthfully, a manufactured facade-
Beneath, a much less pretty wasteland.
I want my real self to be known,
Have all my understandings understood.
First I must find the right words,
But they always pale in comparison.
There’s no real description, it seems
Of our inner-most workings,
Even here I pause as my depiction stutters.
I wish I could just bequeath my mind
And have my soul be exposed;
For someone to retrieve my thoughts
And need no explanation.
If I can’t emit my true visage,
If only I can see color,
Then I have no hope for completion,
And the loss is overwhelming.

the omittance of a standard
the justification of an action
the realness of pain

and still I laugh

I put on a facade to prolong my good name,
A glimpse of reality would prove me a fool.
There are decisions I made with gusto, no less
That have withered my soul; a constant weight on my chest.

And to think it all done with others in mind,
Making paramount choices with no thought of myself.
My naive urge to impress was too strong to resist
So, for the approval of others I now barely exist.

And it kills me to know that I could have had more,
More than these miserable minutes I somehow survive.
Even with words I cannot fully describe
The pain that I feel and constant regret I abide.

And I still have the option to take it all back,
Which hurts all the more because I know that I won't,
My pride would never let me unveil my tears
Or reveal to the world even my small, petty fears.

So, I must carry on the only way I know how:
By reminding myself it all comes to an end;
Death will enclose me and my so-called "existence" will shatter,
Right after I realize that nothing ever truly mattered.