Fake

Hey….

“How do you do?” You ask

Wait!!! Don’t ask me that.

Don’t ignore the fact.

You caused this…

You made me but a counterfeit

of myself,

of my true nature.

Trying to paint a picture

to every other eye.

Solely combining raw mixtures,

causing me to die

inside,

outside,

with esteem lower than a limbo bar.

Confidence striped off,

like i’m naked with clothes,

bare-feet with sandals

doing everything I loathe

not just tolerating one but both.

So,

am I pissed?

YES!!!

 

The only thing I love on me

is too little to be seen

but its value is worth more to me

as dark as it may be,

in perception not in colour

my opinion is difficult to see.

Why make me up if you don’t think I’m ugly?

Why try to fix me if you don’t think i’m broken?

An offer is different from no option.

It is basically coercion with a caption,

a brief description accompanying an illustration

of my frustration

creating a facade. an illusion.

Fake people are merely just Fools Actually Kooky Everytime,

people with False Advertisings, Killing Expectation.

I can’t be one,

so don’t make me.

Dare or not,

dont’ break me.

Fake isn’t me,

isn’t what i want to be

but it’s something i see.

I choose to be me

Unconditionally.

 

Am i still pissed?

Well….

Yes i am.

Will it fade?

Everything does.

Be you, not for anybody but yourself

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