Lies

A poem that was created out of your average late-night over-analyzing.

This face that is shown to the world is a lie.

These morals and expectations that I hold myself to are lies.

These friends that I speak nothing of importance with are lies.

These clothes that cover my body are lies.

These words that I speak are lies.

These family pictures are lies.

Everything seems to be a lie,

And it seems as if I can't distinguish what's real and what's not anymore.

How can I?

When I don't even feel real.

Is anyone?