Fake it until you make it


Syllables were colliding
She couldn’t help it
Anxiety was mounting too
Depression on the back burner
But still boiling

She had to keep her composure, for them
But it was hard to remember things
In particular, how to keep her sentences straight
The words were supposed to have a nice flow
Instead they collided into each other
Like road rage on an unknown country road

She remembered how to smile, though
And relied on that fairly often
Even the glimmer in her eyes seemed real and tinged with hope

Slur

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