Nobody really wants to know...

I breathed and lived and walked.
I'm walking and living and breathing.
I'm alive and I'm searching
but have found hardly more.
I'm a fake.
I say, fuck this. Fuck everything to do
with contrition and apathy and hate.
I'm a fake.
Where I lied was where I shouldn't have.
Where I should've told the truth was
where they could've saved me.
I'm a fake.
Bleed because I lie because I know
the truth would make them bleed.
Nobody wants to know whats wrong.
Not really. Not even in asking.
I'm a fake.
My beliefs are all straight up. Truth.
I told all of who I am the way I am.
All except the way I feel.
And that makes me so unreal.
I'm a fake.