Those Little Fictions We All Create

A face puts on a good disguise,

when it’s reluctant to change,

and it’s easy to make a decision,

when there is someone else to blame.

Don’t take it to heart,

because words don’t mean a thing,

when you’ve heard all of the excuses,

and you still don’t know what they mean.

So call yourself broken,

 tell me you are falling apart,

there’s nothing wrong with making mistakes,

it makes us who we are.

You know I thought I used to know,

who you really were.

I guess I wasnt paying attention,

I was busy with the little fictions,

That reality that I prefer.

So far I’ve hoped for it to happen,

and for this I’m certain,

It never will.

But don’t call me broken,

and that I should be falling apart,

there’s nothing wrong with being a little damaged,

it makes us who we are.

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