Grey

The struggle between appeasing those that care about me and being me is a burden and the consequences are uncertain, I think my situation has not improved it has only worsened as a result of my lies by which I am bound to and tied, stifling any pathetic cries and goddammit I just want it all I can only hope the structure I have built doesn’t fall like the house of sticks built by the three little pigs but this hurts and my desires, I am terrified to assert…god it’s all such a joke, i’m waving white flags to avoid eating the dirt but I’m only concealing myself and hoping that they won’t try to seek what I have hidden from their eyes although it is right in front of them camouflaged by lies on top of lies leading to the surmise of their trust in me because hey! trust doesn’t come for free there’s no such thing as free lunch, god I’m getting good at lying my way out of every hunch but the lies always existed even before her I’ve always concealed the gold beneath the dirt it’s buried deep buried hundreds of feet below the grave of my true personality…y’know, it is difficult being a slave everyday to what is deemed “just” and “right”, as my dad says “there’s only black and white”, but I fucking disagree, I believe that there is a lot of grey in between everything that one is instructed and forced to believe to salvage the tiny fragments of their flimsy sanity and to give them something to live for because without a purpose people are fucking worthless, right? that’s what they say at least… but I have seen the grey, in fact I reside there today..I lay down there all the time yet I can hardly sleep and when I actually do I tend to only have bad dreams…and when I’m awake I can only hopelessly wish to be accepted by my family… being here is bittersweet, who would want to be stuck in this “in-between” place of dreams and reality…?

© 2014 Vic Romero

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