whoever cares to listen

I'm fake. And I'm good at it. I've got it down to a couple smiles, tight hugs, empty eyes. I go to school and look put together so I can cover up the broken pieces of me that can't seem to stay where they belong. I talk in the commons and laugh at the clouds.

But I'm tired. So tired.

So please let me be real for these next couple of lines, crooked and cracked and messy they may be. I hate messes.

I get scared looking through all the posts I've written; half of them are about boys and none of them are about the same one. We've only had this class for just over 2 months. I'm scared that boys are all I have, that they're the only things that can make me feel real. And I'm sick to my stomach that I just called them things.

I'm terrified that all those studies about daughters with no dads are true. I'm scared that I'm proving them right.

I was told this weekend that I have been dating all the wrong guys. And that you're not like most guys. And that I was your favorite part. I'm scared that you're right but mostly I'm scared that I'm starting to believe that you're right. And I think I could fall in love with you but I think I'd rather be fake and let you leave like the rest of them.

Truth is, I'm scared to be real with a guy because being fake is so much easier and doesn't ever leave a mess. And like I said, I hate messes.









-Auburn Crane