I keep reading over the words I write
desperately searching for a hint of respite
praying it's a mistake, another lie
I told myself so I could try to get by
I don't hear a god on the other line
as this one way phone call depresses my mind
a sick fantasy is all it is, I reply
hating myself for not being a guy?
confused that my feelings have gone so awry
concerned that I can't bring myself to cry
scared that I won't be what I see inside
and terrified it's all just another lie.