On the outside I may appear fake,
but I'm not.
On the outside I may look empty as a mirror,
so people see their own faults in me.
Whatever it is confuses me...
hurts me...kills me.
Something's wrong with me,
I don't know what it is.
People call me shallow,
but they don't know me.
Their hearts are cold,
they just cause pain.
I shouldn't care,
but I do.
I shouldn't listen,
but I do.
I shouldn't worry about what people say,
but they control what my life is like.
So I am fake,
hiding what's inside.
Not showing anyone,
never to be seen.
They talk no more,
for I am just another one of them.
Fake, cruel, uncaring.
hating, thinking I am better.
To belong I have to change,
but I don't want to care.
I am fake,
it's easier this way.
I have taken the easy road,
and in a sense I'm happy.
I belong.
I fit in.
But do they feel as I feel?
Are they just like me?
Insecure, trying to fit in,
wanting to be someone else?
Do they care what I think?
Do they try to impress me as I do them?
Am I looked at as a cruel and judging person?
I look at them that way.
I am in a way,
cruel, uncaring.
I am fake,
I know I am.
I know what they think now,
they think nothing.
They don't have to,
I am just like them.
Untrue to myself,
untrue to my friends.
Alone,
but I belong.
Different people,
judged as a group.
I'm glad to fit in,
but what is there to fit into?
We are all different,
in the same way.
We are all alone together,
we just won't admit it.
 
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