“I bite my hands to keep from touch. I bite my tongue to keep my words. I fight with myself, second guess every thought. I lick my lips and cycle over. Rock back and forth in my seat, knees to my face, tears rolling down. Am I really happy, or just really good at playing pretend. For now, let’s just pretend that I actually care about the truth in this question. For now, I’ll play dress up, fake a smile and dance in circles, circles around myself. It’s all pretend anyways. Might as well play”