I look around my room
silently reflecting
it doesn't seem lived in
I wonder
it I were never here
would it still be the same
My personality is not my own
I am who I'm with
So, I'm thinking
Would people miss my
personality if I were gone
Cause I was never really here
my life is a empty routine
run by someone else
I'm a steryotope
created by no one
When I'm with others
I'm all alone
Do they even see me
sitting there
absorbed in watching
others destroy their
own lives
even while mine
lies in pieces
on the floor
people walk over me
not caring what part they crush
The only thing original
about me is my pain
Maybe if they go one like this
i'll really be