Preconceived Notions

If I die in a story, do I die a little in real life?
If I can't breathe in the daylight, how can I survive the night?
I can't stand how you look at me, like you don't even care.
I can't stand how you look at me, how you stop and stare.
I'm an enigma, a tireless paradoxical machine.
I'm suffocating, I don't even have the air to scream.
When you meet me, my mask is all you see.
The second it comes off is the second that you leave.
One second I'm flying and the next I headed towards the ground
Do my words even make a sound?
Your gaze burns my flesh a healthy dose of gasoline,
A Grand Canyon, the space between.
I'm arrogant if I like myself
And I'm an idiot if I don't.
I want the best for me, so I'm selfish.
I expect the best of me, so I'm digging my own grave.
My life is like a party, a jam session, a rave
Of mixed signals and mixed emotions.
All I am to you is a set of preconceived notions.

You're like a poem I can't seem to write
Like a disenfranchised soldier,
I've lost the will to fight.
My ink stains the paper
And my hands stain your skin
I can't blame my heart,
But the demons within.
I know you're sleeping
And you know I'm not
Because you've only been scratched
And I've been shot.
The world is burning out there
And I'm
Stuck in here.
My real face is hidden from your view
It's not the same as the one you once knew
I'm the Queen
And you're my King
But you have a crown
And all I have is a plastic, 50 cent ring.
I'm trying, please believe me,
I'm trying.
But you roll your eyes,
Like I'm just another lie that you aren't buying.

You once told me that I had fire in my eyes
Was that just another one of your carefully thought out lies?
You told me things, made me think,
Now those thoughts haunt me,
My sanity's on the brink
Of madness and insanity
Brought on by your apathy
And my vanity
I can barely call myself alive
All my problems are on the inside
I've pretended to be fine for so long
Now my demented ramblings cry out like a heathen song.
I'm not living peacefully
And I'm not resting in peace
My heart is in a cage,
Like a properly trained beast.
I'll pretend like these scribblings mean something,
I'll pretend I can still feel my heart pumping.
But tomorrow I'll go back to more of the same,
Putting on lipstick and trying act sane.
I've come to the conclusion that I can't be who you want me to be,
A figure of some 1950s, misogynistic fantasy.
I've got a brain, fried as it might be,
And my heart is still there, dead as the free.
I want to be like others,
But only as myself.
I can't do it alone,
But I can't ask for help.
My words are climbing back down my throat,
My nose above water, barely keeping afloat.
I'm gonna float away,
Like a balloon in the breeze.
My body is on fire,
Just about to freeze.

My life is like a jam session, a party, a rave
Of mixed signals and mixed emotions,
All I am to you is a set of preconceived notions.