Realty is a slap in the face, the days go on and i show who i wanna be, who i desire to be but deep downt that truly aint the real me. i wonder why i show it, it being the fake me? if i show it then i should know it right. wrong. the things i do show up as you, the the things i see show up to be not real. when i look in the mirror i see the real me the reflection of who i uses to be. but now when i look in your eyes i see a wanna be like you not a wanna be you beause then im just like everyone eles witch makes up to be like me. not the real me but the me who i pretend to be. so it all comes back to you. a sad song plays in my head my heart my soul. sayig the words to make me strong, forgetting were i am, to the sound of the violen. the words are not words but notes to be turned in to words, words that only i can see and hear then i smile. i see who im going be. not like you not like the world but like the real me. the one lookin back at me, the one smilling as she writes this she sees a way through all the gray and she has hope to move on and get through.