Pretend

My chest aches.
Everything around me,
fake.
Can you see pain?
Or can you see what it does.
I try to breath,
but my airway is constricted.
All I see is people passing by.
With their counterfiet smiles and handshakes.
Everyone lives their fairytail.
Until it breaks.
I've been there.
Page after page of a childs storybook.
Hapily ever after.
What happens after?
You see everyone greeting each other.
shaking noding and bobbing along.
I have already learned,
I no long have to pretend that people can understand.
You don't know until you get there,
until you have your own mutated childrens story.
I know, that no matter how many hands you shake,
and no matter how many smiles you pass along,
you will always feel desperately,
and utterly
alone.