That's the day
I realized it wasn't
A joke anymore

It’s a blur of reality
A sense of something there but never being able to really see it
To actually contemplate how and why and who
To know one of the wonders of the world and to also know the wonders of the individual people
Because As they walk by you see nothing,
You hear everything from laughing to crying
You start to see through the blur that has been created
They start see through the blurs they have created
We all stop seeing nothing, stop hearing everything and instead we feel, you feel...
You feel not their pain, but...the individuality and the relatability of your own

Who am I?
Am I the what I do
Am I the what I see
Am I the way I talk
Am I the way I seem
Am I what I want to be?
What am I defined by in this world full of mystery
They define you as different than them
As a disaster  
A bomb going to explode
A me going to implode
Who’s going to hold you when you finally get to old for them to know
Your all alone
They define you with things from the outside not knowing what lies on the inside
They look repulsed at the things that they see not knowing they there things they created
You’ve been made to there design
Yet your still too much for them to handle so they place you just far enough away so they can’t hear you but you can hear them
You become so suffocated with all these things and words to the point where even when surrounded by millions you feel alone
Your in a hole
A dark place and you can’t see
Where do I go?
Who am I?
All I want in life is to be defined for something other than the mess that I am
The mess that has been specifically fitted to me

I’m sorry. I think it’s time for me to stop fighting.