I think I have backed my self in to a corner. I'm not normal. I am not right. I am an outsider. I am alone. My world has crumbled. The things I love are lost. Or maybe like smoke and mirrors where never real. I can't see any more through these rose tinted glasses. But taking them off. I am the dream. I am the the one who fades. In the corner.  I am the dream that dies. And this is how the story of me ends.