Splinter: DPDR and Imposter Syndrome
I’m standing on a stage tonight,
Underneath a blinding light.
I watch myself move, I watch myself speak,
But my arms feel heavy and my knees feel weak.
It’s like I’m sitting in the very back row,
Watching a girl I don’t even know.
She says the lines, she plays the part,
While a cold, dead numbness fills my heart.
They clap for her. They say she’s great.
But I’m just a fraud hiding behind the gate.
Any second now, they’ll see through the mask,
And realize I’m not up to the task.
My ribs, they splinter,
They cave and inter,
They puncture my heart,
The girl on stage then falls apart.
I look at my hands, I look at my skin,
And wonder who lives in the body I'm in.
If they only knew that it’s all just a lie,
They wouldn't look up, they would just pass me by.
The girl in the spotlight is clever and loud,
She smiles for the cameras and pleases the crowd.
But I am the shadow that's slipping under,
Shaking and shivering under the thunder.
The performance is over, the echoes remain,
A quiet reflection of hidden-away pain.
The mirror is clouded, the image is blurred,
The deepest of secrets are left here unheard.
