Pretense

The trick is to make it look natural
To forgive myself all this pain
And start all over again
But that’s easier said than amended
This frantic convalescence of the mind
Hiding in cobweb and shadows
Trying its best to practice avoidance
Like fear and consequence
Wrapped up in the trappings of pride
So I can tell that I’m alive
Still breathing in half-hearted rhythm
Waiting until I can stop pretending
Until everyone else looks away
From this blithely even mannequin
And I can give up the cast iron ghost
Replacing him with these blueprints
This idea of who I want to be
Still gestating, dying to break free
From all this practiced artifice
Masquerading at the well-adjusted me
That I’ve always hoped I could be.

The trick is to make it look natural
To deftly wax while others merely wane
And start all over again
But no one explains how to shift
When you’re out of alignment.

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