Am I really always misunderstood
or is it an encryption I have created
to protect the truths
and secrets bestowed upon me?
Am I really difficult to love
or have I tucked my heart away
from the cold on my sleeve?
Why am I even dwelling on these questions,
when the answers come to me in my sleep?
Am I really failing
to keep it within me?

Do I really fail to hide it
out of my rage and concerns?
or do I really miss the way
I should be faking it?
Why is the truth always bitter when the lie is always sweet?
Why do...