Chalance is the quiver in your vivacious voice as you tell them you’re fine.
The trepid tear you battle as you proclaim that you don’t care anymore. 
The leering lump in your throat as you scream indifference from the rooftops.
The murky melancholy you mask with the widest of smiles,
The sinful scars that lurk beneath your flawless ensemble.
The six strategic seconds you pause before you tell the universe you’re nonchalant
The word chalant is only as non-existent as your nonchalance.


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