seems to be
a full time job
manufacturing
emotional breakdowns
a flurry of pleas
to be seen
to be heard

seems to be
exhausting
this constant need
for validation

seems to me
i don’t understand
the machinations
the prerequisites
of self delusion
in taking pity
as a placebo
to fill the spaces
in a fictitious
one person play
performed to an
ever decreasing
audience of bored
onlookers that only
revisit the theatre
out of a sick
moribund curiosity

the curtain opens
the spotlight shines
on alligator tears
a monologue of
singular self (un)importance
dramatically falling
to the stage
lamenting this
laminated lethargy
of insignificance
in misguided dismissals

seems to be
a pathos bred of
pathetic needlessness
destroying happiness
then looking for
anyone to blame
a resurgence of
regurgitated
ridiculousness

seems to be
a full time gig
this manufacturing
emotional distress
seeking solace
in the empty words
to file down
the ragged edges
of a miserable life
destined to be spent
alone

or maybe
that is just
how it seems
to me