small frightened noises

The ache is always there
Even in my happiest moments
It's a reminder that their lives
Will never be for me
I can pretend all I want
Read the script like a real pro
But the reality is
I will buckle and fold
And find myself a mess of tears and sadness
A man child who never could harden himself
Against the grit of the world
Everything I do
Is an act of pretend
I am sad and unsure
And always unsafe

This will end badly
It was always meant to be like this
It was never supposed to get better
Some sort of redemption in the end
This is no fairy tale
There are no happy endings
Wishful thinking was just a distraction
I've always known the truth
In my most honest moments
I could see it clearly
And it's just as ugly and pathetic
As every sad story

Reviews

[. serah .]

-- a similar tryst with despair led me to live in near-complete isolation for several years... but i never stopped writing... and one day words opened doors for me that i thought never even existed... -- you describe despair exceedingly well...