Without Her

I have never really had a filter.

Not a literal one, however.

In a world full of cover ups and blind dates, I stand alone.

My filter is metaphorical because I don’t have an IPhone.

I have masks and I’m a bit fake,

But so is everyone else these days.

My filter comes up in my words

Everyone else’s is in pictures.

I hide behind lies to keep things positive,

But without my smile I’m the opposite.

I’m losing the battle that everybody has already won.

The battle with life and consciousness is never done.

Though I stutter and stumble with my filter at times,

I always find a way to change their minds,

To show them that I’m fine when I’m not.

I show them I can lie and I do it a lot.

Behind the filter, I’m just a big mess.

I’m a human mess and I feel worthless.

I feel alone.

I’m on my own.

I feel a void in my heart.

It’s because I fell apart.

I know that’s okay.

It’s okay to feel that way,

But I don’t want to.

I just want to tell the truth.

I want to throw away all of my masks.

I want to really answer questions people ask.

I can’t, though, and I know it.

I know I’m afraid to show it.

What will they think?

Maybe I’m just weak.

That’s who I am without a filter.

That’s who I am without her.

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