it was easy to bask in unreal memories. unreal realities.

so simple to twist a truth into a lie to make it more cozy, easier to live with.

i would carelessly laugh when the good ones tried to remind me, and i would scream when the bad ones wouldn't let me forget.

i covered my ears when i shouldn't have because false hopes about what had already been, were better than harsh honesties.

call me crazy, everyone does.

call me broken, because maybe i am.

but you'll never be able to call me sad, or let down.

because where i come from, i'm not. and i wasn't.