I've stopped fearing death
long ago.
However, that is not to say
I quite adore life.

No, I've died many times.
You've broke my heart,
suffocated me,
and stabbed me.

And when it's all over,
you'll resurrect me once more
by whispering your quiet
reassurances.

Isn't this basically enough?
Even being average's pretty tough.
Even if greater existed, at the end of the day,
wouldn't have the courage to try for it either way.

Never wanted to be perfect,
maybe I never had that option, in retrospect.
Anyhow, I just want to live for the "now",
and no one will be able to tell me how.

Existence's puzzle paints a scenery
describing happiness,
knowing delight,
describing sadness,
feeling plight.

Every piece is in place
to portray such a full, diverse life.
But as I hold my own,
I begin to realize it has no place,
and can only exist outside.

It's something
you can't just laugh away.
Unease engulfs me
and I can't face the day.

I lay awake,
late hours of the night.
Knowing I've, once again,
done wrong,
how can I make things right?

And again
I made the mistake
of holding you.

Smokescreens of
unattainable luxury
dissipate.

Like tears you can't wipe away,
my feelings
were here to stay.

It's disappearing
and rotting
and the world will stop again.

In a tale like this
my happiness
is unheard of.

"See you then, okay?"
Please don't go away.

"I really had fun."
You were never just "anyone".

"Things will be the same, see?"
I didn't want to be...

There's a
hole in my chest.
Looking into it leaves me
with unwavering fear
and unrest.

It doesn't go right through,
and I can do naught but lament
the fact that inside
there's only a whirlwind
of torment.

Fueled by the
fragility of my brain,
it tears me apart,
leaving me
barely sane.

It's got nothing to do with logic
or emotions.
As I am now,
I need to become someone else.

If I could take on
the personality of another,
I'll never have to feel
inadequate again.