I'm dying insidelying inside pretending I'm not just along for the ride.
I'm smiling outside I'm faking my pridewalking around like there's nothing to hide.
And there's so much more to tell too. I'm just not sure how to be honest with you.
My heart breaksmy body shakes and when I try to tell you my voice quakes.
My eyes can see that it's really just meunable to let go and actually be free.
Trapped inside of this beautiful mindtrying to pretend I'm not one of a kind.
And I know the things I want from youI just can't have them until I face what's true.
Until I'm actually ready to start over some day.
Which all sounds good until it's time to pay.
Then it's easy to go back.
It's easy to backtrack.
As if I weren't able to fight off my own attack.
A one man self destruction crewsame old storyjust made to feel new.
Same guy still trying to fly. Still running in circlesstill stuck in a lie.
Still a dreamerstill a believerstill holding onstill born to be a leader.
Yearning to be free. Of the painof my brainof everyday feeling the same.
Looking for escapefor a small breaksearching for something other than heartache.
Starving for attention lost in contention hoping and praying for a sliver of redemption.
When will it all stop?
When will my life change?
And why does facing the truth always feel so strange?
But it's not all a lie.
I've given at least half a try.
And you know, it kind of feels good inside when I cry.
To feel that release.
To let it all go.
But I always wonder, is it all just for show?
Pretending to be, anything but me.
Holding on to a vision of what used to be.
Holding on to what I want to see,
because without the pain, then who would I be?
What thenwould be my inspiration if I was no longer drowning in desperation?
What would I blame if I freed myself from all of this frustration?
And how am I supposed to just pick up the pieces after all this devastation?
What would I write about if I finally found a way to let go of all this self doubt?
What would I use as a muse if I was no longer perpetually confused?
And what if I fall again?
Am I finally willing to see this thing through to the end?
How does a man continue to stand in the face of a self imposed backhand.
Trying so hard not to drown in a crowd of people who only know how to back down.
Trying to stand up with a weight on my neck that feels like a thousand pounds.
And what do any of these words even mean?
Should I keep them hidden, never to be seen?
After all, I wrote them for me
But maybe it's something you need to read?
Maybe my pain is intended to show, that deep down inside you already know.
That pretending to be perfect is never the way to go.
That broken is better.
That not fitting in is the new trend setter.
To show off the insides of my brain while proving to the world that I am actually still sane.
And then… just for fun…
I’d bet that you feel the same.