The Murder of You

Its been a long day,
going to be a cold night,
I wish I could be away,
from everything that I am.

A touch of reality,
I think I am already dead,
a little insignificant creep,
thats what I have become.

I see no reason to be,
my perception is blurred,
I think too much of me,
maybe there is nothing but me,
maybe existence is a big lie,
we all live, we all die,
just like a TV show,
the art of cheating reality,
creation of a dream,
there is nothing as it seems,
nowhere to escape,
no one to trust,
the game of destroying,
your own individuality.