living a lie

most of my life, I've been living a lie, always looking for the answer, but didn't know why. endless questions, internal wonders. not feeling happy, or even somber. always thinking the answer would be something positive when, in fact, it was it not. overlooking the one thing it was the whole time. it wasn't the drinking or the lack of sleep. it's was the sadness, buried so deep. was this what was causing the inability to weep? from the top, it's hard to imagine the bottom. From the bottom, it's impossible to see the top. forcing the pain because it's the only feeling that's real. who is the thief, my joy they did steal. why must I try to make others understand the way I feel. seeking approval, hoping it will make it feel real. nobody gets it, the endless rambling. do I do it for the conversation or to hide from this person inside. asking all the questions for no reason why. have I found the answer, or is it all a lie.