I’ve been faking happiness

acting like I’m okay when in actuality,

all of my bones are shattered into dust remains and resting in the souls of my shoes.


I wasn’t really great at this.

I was always told I was

“as easy to read as a book”

a simplistic book, I assumed.

One that anyone can comprehend, even from afar.

Now, though,

I am more like a Shakespearean piece

seemingly impossible to process

but with the codex, things begin to scratch the surface of sense.

It’s near impossible to understand what’s hidden behind the words and between the lines, now.

It can be interpreted so many ways

and is often taken the wrong one.



I want to be understood.

I want somebody to care enough to take the time to read through my pages and understand the mess of an alphabet.

I want somebody to see behind this façade.

Other times,

I am thankful nobody does.


I can hide safely.

I am no longer bombarded with concern and questions.

I am no longer surrounded by pity.

I can focus on those I love rather than those I love focusing on me.


My joy isn’t always genuine but I am going to keep going until it is.




via Daily Prompt: Enthusiasm

1 Comment

  1. I’d rather have no one fathom my depths. I’d rather have a smoke screen around me. That should be interesting.
    Good luck with your masks. They are extrardenary for sure!

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