I’m real till I die, but it won’t be long the way I’m heading. Where will I go heaven or hell? More than half the time I think I keep it too real, so real that fakeness doesn’t phase me. I’m great but not great enough to have her. I don’t mean to break hearts , it’s just half the time I feel as though I have none . So I await for her to set me free and offer me her heart to take, and take care of for as long as we last. Every time I talk, it’s real talk, never fake. In the end as you live the last few seconds and take you’re last breath, as life flashes by and you realize not everything you wanted to live for was real.