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.