Pretense

The thoughts flow fluid
every shape, every form,
every nook and corner.
I guess I'm living with them
but is pretense a part of it?
Apparently, it is.
I live with somebody's pretense,
every day, every moment.
It will be wrong to say
that it hurts.
It simply chokes, the breath
does not come easy.
And I pretend to ignore
the greater pretense
I hate to admit that
and repeat it every time
that I do and I'll
trust you – always -
whether the feeling are one sided.
I lie, I pretend, I fake -
if that's what you believe
than I'm at wrong
all wrong – where it's not worth living
worth fighting for the truth
because the pretense wins.