Like no other.

I live like no other,
cry as another,
and am not standing on solid ground.
I do not stand the blatant disregard,
the misheard remarks,
and the fallen lies.
I cannot see past the fog that embalms,
I fear only the stopping short of the greater moments
that we achieve,
that we dream,
that we find when we have lied for long enough-
until we believe.
Pretending was fine when we were younger,
Alright when we were stronger,
Fine when we lived longer,
but now the make-up's caked on, thick,
flakes away to see the skin beneath,
and runs the water muddy.
Will you breathe with me?
Breathe.