AHHH

I can't stop living my life in other people's shoes
It brings me joy to see what they do

To see a painter's craft;
It's like ecstasy to peer into their head
And feel everything they've put onto a canvas

To hear a musician's melodies
Drag me into wonderment
How do they do that so well?

To read the words of a writer
Live in their world
Have my heart squeezed
And bleed colors I've never imagined

They're all me
I can fathom all of those feelings
I can, I can
The words
The hues
The emotions
The notes
The metaphors
All of those slivers of existence
I can experience them all
I want to
Live in their shoes

But they're not my **** shoes
And they don't fit; my feet are too small
And I know an artist's life is nothing to envy
And most of them didn't recognize their own talent
I don't recognize my own talent
Am I in their shoes now?
Or just talentless?

When I look down at my own feet
I don't see anything but stumps meant for walking
And when I walk to a mirror
I see a fool who keeps trying on other people's shoes
Asking if they fit
As if anyone else would ever know

I see a man who needs his own shoes

It gets dark and cold
When the fire quiets down
But I'll blow on the embers
Until I pass out

A midnight snack of
Asparagus and mushrooms
Have to be healthy
Or I'll have a heart attack

A climb so long and high
I stop to take a breather

A sight that hits my eyes
I am no longer my own leader

I feel very ill
I don't want to be here

Back at the bottom of the hill
The scenery isn't right

Isn't there a fix?
Some kind of miracle pill?

A voice in my ear—
"Dude, chill."

I will, I will!
Let me be clear

Something isn't right
I feel very ill

I need to get back
Everything feels so still

My vision is going black
I feel very ill

I have forgotten how to love myself
I don't think anything has changed
But I know they say
You learn to hate
Those you've been around too long

I think I'm here to stay
So should I just find another way?
Maybe the lack of change
Is the false whisper of comfort

There are chains on my ankles
And they are cutting through flesh
The one I hate put them there
Swallowed the key
Probably to feel less empty

But what about me?
But what about me?

There is an echo
It's the voice of a selfish fool
Who needs help
And doesn't know what to do
We have too much in common
Something has to change
But these chains