Who am I?
I look into the mirror, unsure of who I see.
So I’ll ask myself, who is this person looking back at me?
I try to hide my true identity to the people I hold close,
Terrified that if I didn’t, they would all go ghost.
My own family don’t know who I truly am,
They just know what I show them.
So I do the same with my friends, even I’m not sure who I really am.
I’ve hidden who I am for so long that it’s faded in the darkness,
I can act cold at times but I promise I’m not heartless.
I know I’m a twat to some people, but to others I’m a saint.
I know that being in pictures is a thing I hate.
I know I’m not good at controlling my anger so I take it out on objects,
I’m not the real me, I’m just a concept.
I know I’m a different person around different people,
I wish to be liked as a kid, but now it’s turned to a curse.
Scared to tell people my problems, even I know others have it worse.
Locked pages in my notes app, I’ll unlock them when my time comes.
I’ll write one more, just in time for deaths hug.
But until then, these notes will stay locked.
Just like the real me, who is forever lost.
I’ll keep pushing her down, further and further,
Still terrified that no one will like the real her.
I can’t remember the things I once loved,
But now they’re gone, so is she,
So please don’t ever ask me to show you the real me.
I’ve forgotten who I was, but this is who I am.
Don’t ask me to remember, it hurts and I’m already damned.
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