You would think I could be a better actor.
It should be so easy to smile and fold my hands while I chant the words I know by heart.
But, it's not.
I know that it's fake. I know that in this moment in time, I mean nothing of what I'm saying. None of it holds any substance for me.
They don't even notice, despite my horrid acting.
I'm open with my friends, but not with them.
The thought of their reactions is enough to keep me silent.
Even though I'm finding that I suck at acting, I tell myself to stop being dramatic. If I don't act well enough, they could become suspicious. It should be all too easy to continue doing what I've done my entire life.
But, my heart isn't in it anymore.
That's not a bad thing.
But, it still doesn't feel alright.
So, I'll continue to do what I do best.
Ignore the problem.
Wait for it to disappear.
Lessen how I'm feeling until I convince myself that I'm not as bothered as I think.
Wish me luck.
Maybe I'll even break a leg.
YOU ARE READING
Restless
PoetryMy mind never stops. And, I finally decided to quit trying to make it rest. Basically these are just little ramblings, poems, thoughts, and stories that will all be collected here in one place. This is basically an archive of short ramblings from hi...
