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.