Fake

It’s an apathetic anomaly to feel that you’re not real.
As if life is a story book and you don’t know how to feel.
You don’t know what character or feeling to portray;
You can’t feel, can’t think, can’t properly display.

You’re a robot, a zombie, a feeling of unsure.
You don’t know where you start or end;
You never find the shore.

Numb and lifeless; emotionless yet scared,
You try so hard to relate, but other’s can’t compare.
To cry is futile; to smile is fake.
And to try for other’s seems to always be a mistake.

You want to numb the numbness,
You no longer want to feel.
You accept the apathetic nature;
You don’t want to appeal.

There’s no way to escape it;
Efforts lead to despair.
And the only way to survive,
Is to no longer care.

You start to wonder if life would be better you if lived this way.
If you didn’t have any emotions and you could always run this play,
But you’ve never understood how other’s could be so happy,
While you’re feeling so drastic and separate when compared.

It’s a form of self-sabotage that you lead your life with now.
And you always wonder how
You’re even still alive.

It’s exhausting to feel so scared.

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