I'm not here,

But you can hear.

After you

I'll disappear.

You might leave,

I might not lie.

That's not the truth,

Don't let me die.

Don't make sense,

I might still be.

Don't believe

This isn't me.

I can't find

A cut-out shape.

Won't let me fit,

Can't fix with tape.

"We're not shapes!"

You still scream.

"We're all people,

"Not a theme!"

"Broken moulds,

You still believe.

We're not perfect,

This lie you weave."

But I don't hear,

I only see

The way your lips

Move perfectly.

How all your tears

Are crystal clear.

Your skin so smooth

Without a smear.

Your emotions

They are not real.

You perfect souls,

You cannot feel.

I'm alone,

Problems my own.

I sit here on

Delusion's throne.