Am I Just Gaslighting Myself?

The things I’ve gone through are too much

To believe it was all

Natural.

How, in a world of knowledge, do I not know

Whether what I’m feeling is true or

Artificial.

How are people supposed to see me

If I’m not as resilient as

Stone.

I keep thinking about how fragile

My heart and mind are on the inside of their

Shells.

People look up to me in admiration

But I fear the day they find out I’m not

Perfect.

The day their world shatters into thin pieces

And they see their idol as

Flawed.

Why has my shallow perspective

Forbade me from seeing

Color.

My life has been swallowed and consumed and corrupted, used for entertainment

Of people who feed off others who live in

Monochrome.