Pretenceinmotion Poem by Rickon Chewe

Often I sit, unconscious to movement, looking at the still stars
in the almost motion Drawn open Sky.
The Pen in the midst of my thoughts wishfully Paints them to be shooting Stars
And in flight state of Cogitation I become quite aware of my wounds but
I pretend them a mere scar that hurt.

At most, I Exist Ignoring the Fact that maybe I may be a Mess.
So I choose organize all that's disorganized in the Spacious Rooms of my life
That portrays Me a Wreck to form a mental picture of a fixed self,
It starts with a thought after all.

Half of the time I hurt but through most of it I smile
Chin up; I have been down all my life, a misfit seeking approval to fit in.
Hence whenever it’s a war out there
I pretend I have peace fights within.

Often I imagine the Past was nothing but a Dream,
A mere Pixel of My Imagination, Circulating the thoughts of my upper Brain so strongly I feel it may or might have Happened.
I Take what is and make it what it could’ve have been and what may have been
but irrefutable is the truth that, what I think I never saw is what I have seen.

I like to pretend that Reality is a Dream
And Dreams are Reality
because when viewed in the opposite Life seems better
Like laying down earth but still looking down into space.

THIS Reality is for the dreamer, mere logic cannot comprehend it magic
Love is for those that know pain; life is for those that have lived death.
I often find myself feeling like it will never be okay; and it will never be
Such is the true face of life but I pretend it will be. Its how I survive reality

NOTE TO MY READER: truth is life as you know it, will get worse
You just have to get better-Rickon