It feels unceasing to me

As we rewrite history

Overwrite the bad washing away sad and unhappiness

The devil will not have a chance to laugh at us.

But I can’t get a grip or dig-in

to hold a place with constant faces.

An authentic conversation, with no acting or clues about what they need me to do.

As soon as I pick a spot, I quickly see the plot, and the change to make things better.

But I refuse to pretend that I don’t see the altered end.

The story changes & bends, as we mend, mend, mend.

Will I ever lose synthetic, contrived, and find an authentic friend, a genuine interaction and existence with significantly less resistance? One where I’m seen and heard as me.

Or maybe to grip-in, I’ll have to pretend, I don’t see the ever-changing end.

Um-hum’s, Blank Stares, Fake smiles, curious glares.

Your game moves, betrothals, blindfolds, and stupid clues – wipe our species out!

Map photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

Coliseum photo by Federico Di Dio photography on Unsplash

Photos photo by Roman Kraft on Unsplash

Newspaper photo by Mr Cup / Fabien Barral on Unsplash