it's like being a robot. you go all day smiling at people, making jokes, laughing with them, trying so hard to always be around someone so you never feel as sad as you really are inside. so you go out. you meet new people. you make new useless, cheap memories with them. you say good morning to your mother. you kiss her on the cheek. you tell her you love her. you eat breakfast. you go to work. you do your job. and then comes a moment when you're all by yourself - with no curtains, no masks, no show to perform. and you're all alone. and you're tired, so very tired of running away. so you take off the mask. you lay in you bed. you rest your head on your pillow. look at the ceiling above. and suddenly one tear falls down. and another one. and another. and suddenly it's not just a tear or two - suddenly you find yourself crying into your pillow, you find yourself silently sobbing so you don't wake up anyone in the middle of the night. and that's when you understand that it's not happiness. it's not you being joyful and satisfied. it's not you having the time of your life. it's you pretending. it's you running away.
it's your giving a show.
YOU ARE READING
dandelion in a storm
Poetrya collection of poems by me to read whenever you feel happy, sad, cozy, or just in the right mood. 🕊 - find me on instagram: @elizabethbagirov cover by: @flowsofly
