Who is me?

Sometimes I think I’m just lying to myself.

Maybe I only ever loved you in a dream. Maybe nothing I feel is quite as real as I make it seem.

Maybe I made you up in my head. Maybe neither of us were ever real. That way neither of us could ever feel.

How can you be so sure that you’re really here? When nothing I feel is anything but fear.

Who is the I that does the feeling? What is she doing? Who is she really?

Can the you that is you please make her go away? It hurts too much to be her today.

Isolation

People often tell me they would rather live in isolation. In the middle of nowhere, as far away from other people as they could possibly get.

I often wonder if those same people realize what that sort of exile would really mean. How much they would have to contend with their own selves every day. Because you can bet, once you’re all by yourself, once your world is dominated by nothing but the silence of nature, all of your demons will start peeking out their heads, and you’ll have to face every single one of them. I’m not sure the people who crave isolation realize how much of themselves they might not want to discover.

Introversion and Insecurity

People tell me I’m confident and intimidating.
I think it’s hilarious.

You Are Everywhere

In your cocoon.
Under your gaze.
Trapped in a maze
But I know you are too. And all we can do is find our way out.
In your cocoon.
Under your gaze.
That whole night come back clear as day.

Around every corner, just off to side.

Your memory thinks that hides.

But I know where it lives, I know that it’s there. And no matter what I do it won’t leave.

It hurts and it doesn’t
It was then it wasn’t, but I’m the one left here trapped
In your cocoon.
Stuck in this maze.