who is the real me? 

what a stupid fucking question, you're asking the wrong person.

oh and did I forget to mention, what transpires in my head

depression and discretion.

But to my friends, it's just me, and there's no one else they're expecting. 

I forget sometimes that it's even there, even though I'm never really neglecting 

drown out the voice with prescription medicine. 

Will I ever really know me? Is this even an addiction?

Do I even have to ask? what's the furthest restriction?

I leave my thoughts behind, infused with my diction. 

My body leaves my mind, I blow my brains out in the kitchen.