I'm not young enough to know everything.
But I thought that at least this... this precious little bubble of my life was safe
Protected and true.
And even when it burst I denied it to myself
but now the pain, the incomparable pain rests upon my shoulders
pressing down until I become a smudge of the self I'd always known
No one ever told me that knowledge and truth were anguish.
I feel the agony but at the same time am removed as if I'm watching my actions on a screen from a seat in a movie theater.
It doesn't feel real.
