Cold blood
runs through my veins
and the fury of my stoned heart
is driving me insane,
for my heart has blackened,
my existence is bruised
yet no one really knows or cares
with the exception of you.
Who are you?
You are the reflection of me.
But who is real and who isn't
will remain a mystery.
In me, you see a reflection of yourself,
in you, I see a reflection of me;
I've told my side of things
so tell yours, please speak.
You're right I do my worry about you,
but I worry more about me,
about the image I'm going to project,
the image people will see.
If you are my reflection
I don't want people to know
of your blackened heart
and your world of sorrow.
I want to be seen as hard,
I want to be seen as strong,
I want to be seen as happy,
not as if something's wrong.
I am really who you are
if I am your reflection
which means that you
are just trying to get people's attention.
If not then you are really me
which means that
I am trying to hide the pain
So that everyone will think
that I am completely sane.