real

i speak, i act, and i feel

then why don't i ever feel real?

i wish, i hope, and i dream

i cry, i laugh, and i scream

like a ghost when i walk in alone

i walk back out and nobody knows

here i am and i'm feeling so small

sometimes i feel like i'm not here at all

i bruise, i break, and i breathe

i yell, i run, and i seethe

my thoughts poured out onto a page

crumpled up in a fit of rage

pretend that the world is fine

but i leave the word undefined

i think, i argue, and i know

i fight, i lose, i let go

but did you know i really hold on?

too long after the argument's gone

rethink, overthink, keep thinking

sometimes i feel like i'm sinking

i sleep, i eat, and i drink

i drown in the thoughts i think

i fabricate, i pretend, and i lie

but i'll never tell you why

i move through my days in a daze

i get lost in a million ways

i know that i have a name and a face

but i can't seem to find them anyplace

is this what it's like to be imaginary?

if it is, then being imagined is scary

i speak, i act, and i feel

then why don't i ever feel real?