When The Ground Falls Beneath You

Who am I?

Seriously, who the fuck am I?

Why am I constantly searching for myself.

Who am I comfortable with?

Is she right?

Am I the amalgamation of my social interaction?

If so,

then why do I feel so different when I’m alone?

Who am I?

I’m so lost in my own thoughts.

I fear they may break out of my skull.

I’m at a total loss, honestly.

Trying to claw back to ‘previous versions’ of myself that never existed.

Maybe it’s the time period I miss.

What does it matter if I can’t even figure out who I was then.

I’m fluid,

I’m a chameleon.

Why can’t that be enough for me?

I’m everything,

I’m nothing.

I’m hurting,

I don’t care.

Why can’t I figure out who I am.

What a cruel game this is, that we share.

I know that in my solitude, I am not alone.

Yet I can reach,

No one.