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Debbie Brindley Sep 2018
Let me pretend our life is normal
there's no illness here
As I lay beneath the covers
with you
the one I hold dear

Under the covers
On a chilled mornings day
outside beyond our window
children are at play
Freshly brewed coffee
drifting in on the air
As we lay
beneath the covers
without a care

Spring flowers bloom
their perfume
dancing in on the breeze
Hear the Kookaburras laughing
outside in the trees
Dogs bark in the distance
a few streets away
But under the covers
is where we shall stay

Till it's time to get started
on our day ahead
But for now I'm quite content
under the covers with you
in our bed
Pretending  life is  normal
girasol Jan 2
your strength means
pretending i don't matter
you tear me down with your rejection
that is not strength
strength comes from love
Prabhat Chhetri Oct 2017
not so long ago
they made you feel
not so alone

before
the social medias and  compulsive criterias

and the claustrophobia
that comes
when you will always understand where some people come from but never love them for it

these days it sits in a blind corner
like a forgotten foreigner
mentioned in sentences
that start with
"remember back when..."

The lesson of technology is to go with the flow

The lesson of time is in old and fading photographs
where you are holding
a landline phone
and pretending to talk into it
because your mother wanted to take a picture
Cné Mar 2017
i am naked
and been exposed
i deserve it
i suppose
pretending
at mending
a broken-ness
and making
such a mess
of things
among an audience
never once
thinking
of the pain
i'd be bringing
of a secret
i behold
i regret
i never told
the tears
i cry
i, now
disguise
failing
to realize
my character
being
compromised
Do you ever have one of those dreams where you find yourself in public literally naked with failed attempts at hiding? ... Nothing like starting my day with anxiety.
Dev Sep 2018
My head hurts like hell today
and i never left my bed
I've begun to feel myself decay,
like the hair upon my head.
The only movement to muster,
is a sharp scratch on my arm
the same place I've
been scratching for hours.
I lIft my legs and try to turn
but perish at the thought
and nothing now can match
the pain that I have brought
upon myself with this old scratch
the skin has turned completely red,
and begun to slowly peel
at the deepest part, it seeps my blood
yet it doesn't feel real
I feel light headed, and completely dizzy
like I'm running out of air
and I know I should do something to help myself
but I almost don't care.
My heart is racing and i sluggishly pull the covers over my head
i hold my breath and close my eyes
im pretending that im dead
Ashita Mar 16
You see,
I may come off as strong,
But the problem with being "the strong one",
The one who always offers a hand to everyone,
Is that, t have no one to hold mine.

They think I don't need anyone,
They think I have no problems, no worries,

BUT,
even I fall asleep crying,
And say nothing's wrong,

Because nobody knows,
That I really am lying,
That no one is so strong......
The daily struggle of thousands like me,  who have a tough exterior, and hard walls around themselves to protect the fragile heart from breaking again,
Also to not to show our emotions and stress,
So our friends and family are not burdened....
Grayce Hobart May 20
Here we are
Two not-so-strangers
Used-to-be friends
Lives overlapping

Pretending we're over it.
Dead Rose One Jun 2015
Lush is the quietude
of the late Saturday afternoon,
rich are the silencing sounds,
as variegated as the shades of greens
of a man-seeded, nature-patchworked lawn

rays reveal some bright,
some yellowed spots,
all a potent color palette

resting worry wearied eyes,
untroubled by the gentle fading light's illumination,
that soon will disappear and seal officially,
another week gone by

the lawn,
acting as an ceiling acoustic tile,
absorbing and reflecting
the varied din of disharmonious
natural sounds orchestrated,
an ever present reminder
     that true quiet
is not the absence of noise

I hear
the chill in the air,
insects debating vociferously
their Saturday evening plans,
the waves broom-swishing beach debris,
pretending to be young parents
putting away the children's toys for the eve

the birds speak in Babel multitudes of tongues,
chirps, whistles, clicks and clacks,
then going strangely silent as if all were
praying collectively the afternoon sabbath service,
with an intensity of the silent devotion

this moment, i cannot
well enough communicate,
this trump of light absolutes,
and animal maybes,
that are visually and aurally
presented  in a living surround sound screen,
Dolby, of course,
all a plot of
ease and gentility,
in toto,
sweet serenity

here to cease,
no more tinkering,
leave well enough,
plenty well enough
for Sally and Rebecca, who love the lushness best....

JUNE 2015
Kevin J Taylor Nov 2015
Pretend a moment that you’re me
and write a poem I might see.
Pretend a moment that you’re me.

Pretend a moment that I’m you.
Pretend I read your poem through.
Pretend what happens when I do.
Are you pretending? Good. Me too.

Pretend the poem tells a tale
of wooden ships with painted sails.
Pretend the sky, the salty breeze,
the creak of decks, the swelling seas,
the cutlass singing past your ear!
Quick! Pretend us out of here!

Pretend the road. Pretend the trees,
the horse between your grasping knees,
the flashing river at your side—
Ride neck and neck with hounds from Hell!
Pretend, at least, we live to tell!

Pretend the West, the dust, the gold.
Pretend the sleeve. The ace it holds.
Pretend the six-guns drawn at noon!
Pretend we’re somewhere else! And soon!

Pretend the sky, the sunset sea.
Pretend the dunes, the grass, a tree.
Pretend you’re walking there with me.
Pretend the gulls that dot the swells.
Pretend the tales tomorrows tell.

Shall we pretend
eternity?
Shall we pretend
to dream?
Val Graz Jul 2018
Mommy I'm sorry I manipulate you for,
The alcohol I feel I love more,
And Daddy I'm sorry I pretend I'm naive,
About all of my bad deeds,
I tried so hard to stay dry,
But the rain it pours inside,
I'm drowning in my own self,
I'm suffocating with my mental health,
And I try, I try so hard,
To be who you care for,
The girl who laughs just cause she can,
Who asks for hugs before bed,
But I'm not her anymore,
And I'll never be moving forward,
But really I'm just someone,
Who feels way too much at once,
I cry at night when I'm all alone,
Dancing with my demons on my own,

Please don't hate me, I couldn't survive,
I do that enough for myself, and I can no longer hide,
That I don't have a problem with substances,
That I can recognize when I've had enough of them,

I'm so tired of pretending it's under control,
This feeling of alcohol that sings in my soul,
The cough syrup that makes my shaky thoughts,
Become shaky feet, legs, and hands,
I'd rather feel physically ill,
Than continue to be mentally unwell,
So I will continue to veer off the tracks,
And spin out of control, it's just a fact,
I have no sense of when to stop,
Please don't make me stop,
It's so hard to be in my own head,
Every day it's like a death,
I die a bit, a piece of me fades away,
And I'm sorry to inform you, to say,
I'm not okay, I'm just not alright,
With myself I will continue to fight,

Please don't hate me, I couldn't survive,
I do that enough for myself, and I can no longer hide,
That I don't have a problem with substances,
That I can recognize when I've had enough of them.
Nolan W Apr 15
Despair of a furtive root,
I try to keep the time at bay;
My ambition is rendered moot
And I begin to dread the day

And though I know it seems inane
My reality lives in dreams,
While my life is but a dream-I feign,
Since my life is faulty-it seems

Lost somewhere between hate and love,
apathy versus ambition
And the desire thereof,
Must I imitate affection?

Is love found? Or is it produced?
Is purpose found? Or is it set?
Is zeal found? Or is it induced?
Someone who knows I have not met.

I sought and searched for something new
But found and obtained something old,
I try and try to start anew
Instead I find I grow more cold

Our lives are fleeting and bitter,
I cannot seem to find content.
Through love and hate do I flitter
So I shall remain despondent...
I don’t know what to do
Joanna Charis Aug 2018
I pretended to be in love with him,
since love is a life’s game.
I was only doing it for fun,
and I thought he was doing the same.

I have hidden my feelings by wearing a mask.
But deep within, I loved him...at last.

Through time, when I knew, he loves someone else;
A quench in my heart and sadness...fell.
Anastasia Feb 2018
Let's play hide and seek.
I’ll pretend as if I am not
Into that kind of ****,
As if I am really not
Into relationships,
As if I am as hard as stone,
As if I am far to reach.
Please seek me though.
I’m not as tough as I seem.

It’s actually so toilsome
Pretending I'm a real stone,
I am so much more like ice.
I seem extremely cold
And hard to break.
But really you can smash me
Without trying much,
And you'll feel me melting,
At very slightest touch.

But I’ll pretend I'm not about it,
Stones don't have feelings.
I am here to protect myself
From melting down completely,
I've got to keep pretending
To be a real hard stone,
I don’t belong to people.
Stones don't.
But really all I am thinking:

"Please, seek me, though!"
Love
JustHayy Sep 2018
lies i tell myself while pretending i’m not thinking about you...

“i’m okay in this skin”

i tried to convince myself
flash backs
and memories
screaming
in my skin
where you
used to be
fiery emptiness
hollow to the core

“i’m better off without you”

i can barely mutter out loud
without you..
as if it would be
possible
for my being to
exist
with out yours

“i don’t need you”

i started to say
to the wind
going through reruns
spinning endless
in my head
as if there has been
anything more
essential
for my survival
than having you

“i don’t want you”

as if I haven’t spent
eight hundred and ninety-two days
craving
the taste of your lips
against my neck
just once more
not counting the days
before i called you
mine
before i entangled
myself
in your webs

“it’ll get easier”

i remind my so flatly
knowing
i’ll never believe that
as if the longing
has even started
to ease up or loosen
the chains between
my soul and yours.
as if i will ever be set free
from the captivity
of your clutch
as if the gravity will ever
cease to pull me
into you

“i’m okay in this skin”

i spoke so sadly
remembering
when i first spoke
those words
i almost for
one moment
believed that the
contentment
was real
in my skin
deep in my bones
i almost believed you.
Gabriel burnS Oct 2018
Tar
I’m not broken
I’m a puzzle not to be solved
I’m a bird of…
Preying on rain…
But the clouds elude my webs
I’m the underside of an antisocial umbrella
What with the moisture-averse lovers nowadays
I shoo them off and twist my spokes
And finally I’m no longer pretending completeness for the sake of my surroundings
Because She comes clad timeless
Comes with the thunder
And She tastes like all or nothing
Lydia May 2018
"But what if we're wrong?"
It was silent
But her thoughts echoed around in my head as we laid on top of her pickup truck
I swatted at the eighteenth mosquito chewing on my leg
I don't want this to be love

We were tangled up in the acoustic music they play on the radio on Sunday mornings
She was trying to dream up something clever to write about
And I was pretending I could learn to play guitar through osmosis,
As if blending myself in with the harmonies, finding her in every lyric, and sheer willpower would give me wings or at least magic guitar hands

She set the alarm, checked it over and over
She was not going to be late for her first day
I told her I'd be asleep when she got home, she told me she knew
I told her to wake me up

I wasn't looking for perfect
Perfect really only applies in first year physics courses
After that, we learn to fall in love with "rough around the edges" or "unique" or "unfinished"
As if their life is a puzzle that we need to complete
Just so you know, it isn't

She bought me breakfast and dropped me off
She used to tell me she loved me, but I know she didn't
She does now, so she doesn't have to say it anymore
When I said, "love," before, I didn't really mean it
Not like I mean loving the garden on the balcony of her apartment or thunderstorms in May
Even if I was a puzzle that she completed (and I'm not saying that I am), we didn't need any glue to fit perfectly
The support on this poem has been unbelievably incredible. I am so grateful for this community with all of these lovely people :)

Please comment :)
Seth Keplinger Jul 2018
I keep pretending I'm alone.
Even after losing my seat
to her new prince.

it's spellbinding,  
enough to make my dog wince.

I still love the sad songs her puppy dog eyes dispense.
it was never her truth, per usual;
per his glimpse,
into the future of my demise.
I pretend to appreciate the gent in the white coat.
A self diagnosis wouldn't compromise
my vulnerability.  
Don't, she won't, undermine my competency
it lends itself to my daily routine,
I self prescribe with perplexing potency
and abide
an unprecedented golden rule.
This wasn't preconditioned,
not an act of repetition.
Like Pavlov's shepherd
I implore and drool.  

I pretend its a new found happiness.
it's for the birds
and deveivers
I believe it's for the ignorant
the boring
the people with white picket fences
and golden retrievers.
Beware of the conformist
the ones who did well on geometry tests
their smile so luminous  
like diamonds between her *******.


I'm a lose leaf in autumns first frost
hanging on the edge of winters righteous freeze.
the shackled, the .22,
let it be me.  
I'm a warning sign, Cuba 1963;
Why's the gent in the white coat swinging that Triangle hammer at my knees?
I can barely sleep as it is
from this dusty room
I garner for clues inauspiciously
the obtuse path back to the life i once lived,
obstructed by the 4 seasons, the 4 reasons, the 4 walls,
the 4 grains in this whiskey.

Life outside of her box is a bargain.
Before the flies, where my heart lies;
her highfalutin jargon.
Coping with this void gives me nightmares.
joe and daydreams, I
anxiously begin to slur.
I wish he'd stop cutting his pen through the air,
reminds me of my geometry teacher,
lecturing vicariously through a sorcerer
maybe the boring one's preacher?
everyone in this coffee house likes to stare.
harlee kae Jun 2014
i'm feeling emotional
so i guess i'll let you know
that even though i'm pretending
to be strong
losing you is the hardest thing
i've ever had to do
and if i had one wish
i would make you appear in my bed
just to hold me
all night long
not my best but i don't care. i'm tired and alone and i miss you.
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