I have never been good at pretending; the eyes tell what words won’t.
Body language betrays my desire to hide, to fake through the hurt and disenchantment—
I beg to the sky for resolution,
and if it does not come, and it won’t, there is no hope for change. I am caught
in the act, on stage without a script or make-up,
tear stained with no make-believe, for I have never been good at pretending.