Every day I notice my mistakes,
Every day I make the same ones,
Every day I live in a fantasy
Every day I still pretend.
Pretending is one thing, But
doing it every day becomes a skill.
I am an actress,
You wouldn't tell.
Act like the group
Show no emotions.
I continually tell myself.
It works. Nobody notices.
Finding a way to blend in is easy,
Keeping pretending is the challenge.
I am as real as the next girl,
Even if I pretend
Five years we've been together, This group and I
I thought they all would see past the plastic smiles.
Twelve years I have known two of them there.
Even they do not notice or if they do.
Do not care.
Pretending not to care is a skill.
Those words run through my mind.
I'm in a glass box where I can see out but nobody see's in.
Despite me leaving the key to the door.
Until that one person notices and comes to my aid.
Or so I thought.
They enter but do not see.
"I don't understand why she doesn't just tell us when things are wrong" I hear
"She is such a moany bitch, all she ever does is complain" I hear
"She never makes an effort in anything" I hear
"You're not the only person with problems you know" I hear
I tell what's wrong. I could scream it at the top of my lungs, nobody can hear.
When they do hear I am labelled.
Seriously, How can I do both?
I cannot keep the lid on as well as blowing it off.
An effort is something I always make.
So I pretend.
Everybody has problems.
So do I.
How I deal with them is my concern.
However, as always.
Is that one thing that is easy to do.
After a while.
I show my true colours,
They don't like it.
They like the actress that they see.
Not the unhappy girl behind the glass.
After a while that
"Haha you can't act"
"You're such a bad liar"
I am told.
I do them every day.
I am a plastic doll without the makeup
It is perfectly fine to be plastic.
It's perfectly fine to be in that world of make believe
Why should that be allowed?
There the same.
There something that should be fun.
Not a part of everyday life.
Alas. In the end.
Is this my fault this happens?
Is it because I have the wrong friends?
Could this the moulding of modern society?
Welcome to the world of fiction.
Where the true you will be locked away.
In its place.
You will get plastic.