Secretly

Secretly, I am another person. I am unheard, unseen… I weep, I laugh, I scream…

I am shackled to this body, imprisoned within the walls of this diseased mind – burdened with limitations, frozen in a state of endless misery and frustrating uncertainty.

Nobody can see me – they see only the farce, the front, the mask. They see what they want to see, they follow the road of less worry and pain; they fall for the lie that is my physical self. I am the epitome of the scream, the vision of pain and misery, I am nothingness.

I fall alone, for none may enter and those that try fall limp beside me. I am an epidemic, I am the cursed.

Life means nothing for this is not my reality, I am not here, I am not present, I am the lie.

Secretly, I am another person. I am the paranoid, the reckless… I spend, I laugh, I crave…

I am shackled to this body, Imprisoned within the walls of this diseased mind – burdened with the unlimited, trapped within the consequences of compulsion, I am rash, I am unthinking…

Nobody can see me – they see the confidence that isn’t mine, they see the laughter that does not come from joy. They see what they want to see, they follow the road of hope; they fall for the lie that is me.

I am out of control, I am not here, this is not better, this is another kind of bad.

Life means nothing for this is not my reality, I am not here, I am not present, I am the lie.

What would it be like if I was on the outside, would you know me? Would you want to? You just haven’t met me yet…

 

 

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