When I think about the way I feel
Am I happy?
Am I sad?
Do I even feel real?
I look around and see the world.
I must be real.
There is no other way.
The things I do.
The things I say they must be real.
People acknowledge them
But in my thoughts and brain, I feel like a shell.
I'm a visitor in my own body, and I see myself live
But I don't feel alive
If my thoughts would quiet down, maybe I could feel normal
Maybe I could thrive.
