Pretending

Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

1210

Abstract

eemingly simple goal.</i></p><p id="1aca"><i>When did pretending turn into actual feeling for another soul, I become scared, I have long not dared to let myself feel.</i></p><p id="7fa4"><i>Alas, it is already too late though, as they see right through me and my fate I accept.</i></p><p id="b35f"><i>I relent as they exploit me for their own gain as I exploit them, We find companionship in this devastating cycle, I can no longer pretend.</i></p><p id="c6d9">This poem was written in 2017. Looking back, my 17-year-old self was having a rough go of it at the time. My emotions were a disastrous unintelligible mix of emotional pain, lust, confusion, and anger. Teenage years at their finest. Jokes aside, my way of cooping at the time was focusing on anything else but my own pain, whether that be being the shoulder to cry on for all my friends or making dubious and admittedly reckless decisions in the pursuit of pleasure. That version of myself feels so far away right now and yet the scars of that time still affect me today.</p><p id="f23f">Thank you all for reading even if it is just one of you. I would really appreciate it if you left a clap or two along with a comment. I really do appreciate

Options

the engagement. If you enjoy my work please consider reading my other works linked below.</p><div id="a31a" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/growing-pains-6c641ba01dda"> <div> <div> <h2>Growing Pains</h2> <div><h3>We all suffer from them from time to time</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*_FWiwnvNC4NYcOiL)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="a910" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/imposter-syndrome-b16b33f0a43e"> <div> <div> <h2>Imposter Syndrome</h2> <div><h3>A common affliction for high achieving anxious people.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*Eix6sfm8S5I2l6EQ)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

It’s all just a performance

I am selfish when I pretend to be selfless, I am sinful when I pretend to be pure. I am heartless when I pretend to be concerned, I am a hypocrite when I pretend to be genuine.

To play the part of a caring person is an easy role to play, the words that are right to say are easy to see. Plain to see on their faces.

The expressions of those hurt and longing, wanting comfort and solace. They feed me what I need, Attention.

To fill this emptiness, Soothing my ache for a sense of fulfilment and redemption.

So I pretend for what I need, However, it is not long before the game became reality, Yes, it was a game, one with a seemingly simple goal.

When did pretending turn into actual feeling for another soul, I become scared, I have long not dared to let myself feel.

Alas, it is already too late though, as they see right through me and my fate I accept.

I relent as they exploit me for their own gain as I exploit them, We find companionship in this devastating cycle, I can no longer pretend.

This poem was written in 2017. Looking back, my 17-year-old self was having a rough go of it at the time. My emotions were a disastrous unintelligible mix of emotional pain, lust, confusion, and anger. Teenage years at their finest. Jokes aside, my way of cooping at the time was focusing on anything else but my own pain, whether that be being the shoulder to cry on for all my friends or making dubious and admittedly reckless decisions in the pursuit of pleasure. That version of myself feels so far away right now and yet the scars of that time still affect me today.

Thank you all for reading even if it is just one of you. I would really appreciate it if you left a clap or two along with a comment. I really do appreciate the engagement. If you enjoy my work please consider reading my other works linked below.