fake

these
many ideas
words stories
songs
that come through
aren't mine

i have carefully stolen them
from a thousand
others
i have rewritten
every word
altering its meaning

i was lying about
everything
you me
the notions of freedom
i don't live for

in fact, i don't live for anything

there were times
it was
supposed to be hard for me
but it wasn't.
and when i was to be hurt,
i got irritated,
why don't i feel a thing?

it is not easy,
this feeling,
of knowing
one's own existence doesn't
really exist.
it hurts slightly to know,
i'm a fake.