tell me,
how is it fair
that i should have
to tear myself apart
just for you?
maybe so,
you show the world
every detail about your life
there's no intimacies
left to wonder
so why
should i cry
when the world i'm missing
is only an ideal
you're fake
i think
that was our problem
from the very beginning
i couldn't live
on a stage
and while
you've been putting
on your glitter and makeup
maybe i stumbled upon
someone real
but you
would never know
because in the end, you taught me
there is the sickening poison
in the stagelights
YOU ARE READING
Serenity - A Journal Of Some Sort
RandomThey tell me that what I create is chaos. But what I create is the only thing that brings me serenity. ~ warning: this book abruptly switches from deep personal narratives to really random stuff so hop on and enjoy the ride
