it's getting too hard to breathe.
by Perfection Is Flawed
once, twice, thrice. slipped
regret. strange, for but trivial reasons.
it hurts. wrench, the heart weighs down, painfully.
the climax of a song. listen, the notes, the volume.
rising and falling, jerkily, a soul between fingers
that open and close.
eyes widening, heart beating to a tune.
rising and falling, a man's chest before death.
rising, falling, rising, falling, falling.
hurting like regret.
but not as much.
bow. this perfect facade before an audience.
so perfect that no one, no one knows.
that i am still
no more tears, lest this mask
do you know me?
or are you just lying.
to me and yourself.
does anybody think they know?
or have you just brushed past me.
knowing without knowing.
my apologies, mother. my apologies, father.
you said not to lie.
but i did.
i always have
stereotypical. am i? am i not. mindlessly.
that is enough. stop talking to me, it hurts too much.
it hurts me more than it hurts you, you hurt me without realizing it, do you.
there is no point questioning, because i already
know the answer.
even if you do not.
what is this feeling of emptiness,
this void that swallows
nothing and everything.
wondering if what i touch is really
i know. you are human as well.
we all have little, little masks that help us
to survive in such ferocity, in such ignorance.
in the end, the masks can no longer be removed.
touching such plastic skin.
people think that they care, but they