I am lost,
I have pretended for so long that I am no longer sure what constitutes myself or the me I created to please others...

The demons of my dreams with their silvery crimson wings rest upon my shoulders disguised as angels;

Beautiful yet horrifying.

Pretending to be something they are not, a common occurrence in the world we live in today, yet one that nobody acknowledges.

Because to admit that, is to say that we have lost ourselves.

And to lose ourselves is to plunge our minds into an anarchy of which depression and anxiety rule over all else.