Behind The Mask

A chimney that needs sweeping
And a fireplace half swept;
The flames are eating up the cold,
While I’m swimming out my depth.
You opened all the windows and let the cold back in.
When this is how we gamble,
It’s no wonder I can’t win.
And it’s ironic that the smoke is the thing that drove you out
Cos it’s all smoke and mirrors here
And these reflections cast a doubt
On the person that I’m meant to be,
The person that I feel.
So who the hell are you to judge
When you don’t even see
How I can never be complete when I can never heal.

I remember feeling pushed down but I always got back up
I remember being outside in, and also inside out.
My love of grammar made my prepositions only that...
And my logic always stopped my thirst from feeling like a drought.
I tried to be the person that I thought that I should be
But in the end it’s clear that all that I can be is me.