Identity

[Flak]

Every day, I wake up, weary,
Another late night
Talking to those I've never seen
I turn over and weep.

Every day, I head off,
Full of fire and reality
Talking to those I know
I laugh and frolic in the fields.

Every day, I come home,
Defeated, sore, sick of reality
I settle on illusion
I sit down and press a single key.

Every night, injecting myself with sugar,
Tired, awake, having fun, dying
I settle on reality
And go to sleep.

And then, I wake up, weary
Another late night
Talking to those I've never seen
I turn over and weep.

To this day, for all their distance,
I know them better than I know myself
But these are lies I know
And all I can do is weep.

Every day, I set off,
Full of fire and reality
Talking to those I'm supposed to know
But I wonder about myself.

[Bullroarer]

To me this poem is more about a sense of loss and failure, then a sense of not finding one's self.

[Flak]

It ties directly into these forums, actually. As to who is who. Some of us, these forums are a real and big chunk of our lives, sometimes even our purpose. I'm showcasing how I felt a while back when I realized that I was one such person.