Role of a Lifetime
if you play a role long enough, and really commit, does it ever become real? could i... become real?

my life has always felt like an unanswered question.
a string of days and nights. waiting for something to happen
wherever i am, were some how connected, i can feel you, with me
your what makes me real. and i never wanna go a day without you
because something as simple as seeing you smile, is the highlight of my week
you, your part of me, a part im not willing to let go of.
and im going to hang onto you for deal life.
please. say yes. say you'll be with me.

most actors toil in obscurity, never stepping into the spotlight.
but if you hone your craft. work diligently. you might just find yourself cast, in the role of a lifetime...


untitled
as i toil in my own misery, i cant help but think back
to every action leading up to now, somehow it all seemed too good
as if, i should have seen this coming, as if i think i deserved this.
im supposed to suffer and i try to fight it, im the only one to blame
or do you play your part too? maybe its just me, im flawed
i trust people too easily. why? i dont know. maybe im just so weak
and beaten down by life, that i need others to cling onto.

everything i am. im nothing. what you see me as.
its only how i want you to see me. im a fake. a lie.
ive been playing this person too long now.
i dont even know what i am now. forgotten.
pushed aside in my depraved mind. the real me. the one that once existed.
hes long gone. and never coming back. or? is he simple burried.
burried so so deep. can i ever get him back? do i want him back?
to be him was so painful, memories, people, life.
now i recall why he was burried so long ago, the pain.
this pain i can still recall. is that what makes me real?
is pain the only way i feel alive? for my heart to hurt?
how pathetic am i? is it my fault i am the way i am?
or did i ever have a choice? i guess i was just ment to suffer.

id like to say that even though im a lie, that somehow the pain i feel.
i'd like to think its the real me that feels it. but i honestly, dont know.
maybe im scared to see what the old me looks like. every now and then,
that person, he raises his head, to speak, his words. every last one.
they all hit home. they each do their damage. each one tearing down my walls
every sylable is a dagger of its own. right into my heart.

my walls. my walls keep me safe. they keep me protected. so i build them higher.
higher and higher. i build my walls with those i trust.
when those who i trust betray me. the wall they helped build comec crashing down.
crashing down upon me. upon my heart. i know how to end this pain.
but i couldnt do that. simply because. im a coward. and i dont want to die.

atleast not until i know who i am. who the real me is. or is it my fate?
to linger, never living, mearly existing. an existance, empty and void.
no matter how i try this hole is never filled. its never enough.
and so il end it. with a simple question, to which theres no simple answer.
who am i?