I am the greatest pretender.
The one who says, every time,
that they are fine,
and forgets about themselves,
and never hopes for good things.
Maybe I am the greatest pretender.
The one who screams
at “Halfway Right”
by LP,
or cries
at “Creep”
because of self-harm.
The one who works hard
just to forget feelings and emotions
because sometimes it’s too much
for itself.
Probably I am the greatest pretender.
The one who cries
when you yell at it,
or cries after you fight with it,
but after ten minutes
says it’s fine,
and no one asks about it.
Maybe it feels too much sometimes.
Maybe it’s too dramatic,
or it has too many feelings.
Occasionally I am the greatest pretender,
sitting there in silence
and overthinking,
maybe because of itself
or because of you.
Who knows?
I only know that “it” hates itself.
Probably because I am not the greatest pretender.
Because it is a people-pleaser
who cares too much
about others
and forgets itself.
Maybe I’m not the greatest pretender
because it tries to see the good in people,
even when they hurt it a thousand times.
Maybe because it cares too much.
Probably… because
I’m not the greatest pretender.
Because it can’t lie
when it says “I’ll be there for you,”
or when it cares
even when you don’t know,
or when it hopes like a fool
that people will change.
And it’s not about you or others.
It’s about it.
Because “it” is empathetic and naive
and hopes for change.
Or the moments when it sits there and listens.
It’s the only thing that “it” loves in itself.
Maybe it’s not about being
the greatest or the worst pretender.
Who knows?
I’m not here to judge.
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 7:45 AM UTC
I am the greatest pretender.
The one who says, every time,
that they are fine,
and forgets about themselves,
and never hopes for good things.
Maybe I am the greatest pretender.
The one who screams
at “Halfway Right”
by LP,
or cries
at “Creep”
because of self-harm.
The one who works hard
just to forget feelings and emotions
because sometimes it’s too much
for itself.
Probably I am the greatest pretender.
The one who cries
when you yell at it,
or cries after you fight with it,
but after ten minutes
says it’s fine,
and no one asks about it.
Maybe it feels too much sometimes.
Maybe it’s too dramatic,
or it has too many feelings.
Occasionally I am the greatest pretender,
sitting there in silence
and overthinking,
maybe because of itself
or because of you.
Who knows?
I only know that “it” hates itself.
Probably because I am not the greatest pretender.
Because it is a people-pleaser
who cares too much
about others
and forgets itself.
Maybe I’m not the greatest pretender
because it tries to see the good in people,
even when they hurt it a thousand times.
Maybe because it cares too much.
Probably… because
I’m not the greatest pretender.
Because it can’t lie
when it says “I’ll be there for you,”
or when it cares
even when you don’t know,
or when it hopes like a fool
that people will change.
And it’s not about you or others.
It’s about it.
Because “it” is empathetic and naive
and hopes for change.
Or the moments when it sits there and listens.
It’s the only thing that “it” loves in itself.
Maybe it’s not about being
the greatest or the worst pretender.
Who knows?
I’m not here to judge.
to all who are pretending for others well being
