At the Thought of You [poems]

87. Exhausting

It's funny how no one

not a single person

knows who I really am

no one knows the sleepless nights

I have to go through because

my mind won't just shut up

no one knows how numb I am to emotion

because I fake it so well

no one knows who is on my mind

twenty-four seven, seven days a week

no one has met the real me

and I'm afraid that they will

sometime soon

because it's getting too exhausting