I’ve begun to question my sanity.
I notice at nights I sit infront of my mirror and practice my emotions. My reactions..
So when it’s time to express them I’ve already got the perfect face.
I practice my laugh. My smile.
I practice tearing up.
I talk to my reflection in a fantasy land.. today I was telling myself a story of all the places I’ve travelled... but I’ve never been there.
Is there something wrong with me?
It’s unfolding all around me like a terrible movie.
I’m the main character
The people around me aren’t real, they’re in my imagination
I have spent so much time in my head dotting my I’s with hearts and ......
What the fuck is my life?
What do I have to show for myself? Is any of it even true to how I experienced it?
Have I just let myself believe I live a life full of love or... have the flowers simply died and I’m looking at their dried ashes singing “what a wonderful garden I have..”