Words fly in my head, but my mouth makes no sound.
I nod and smile and pretend to be part of their world.
I'm a little girl playing house,
An outsider pretending to enjoy and understand the inside conversation.
I laugh at the jokes, but don't get the punchline.
I'm good at it.
They just keep talking.
Words pouring from their mouths like vomit.
Regurgitating conversations from an hour ago, a day ago, ...last week.
Same old stories, same fake enthusiasm
A broken record that repeats itself everyday
Broken smiles
Broken faces
Broken souls
Sometimes I think I'll drown in their sorrows,
While they worry about what they'll wear to my funeral.
Broken Spirit
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