The Anti-Climax

What I am is a little bit broken
Press me softly and I might just shatter
You call me brilliant and beautiful
And you say that my eyes shine
But I'm a ghost so it doesn't really matter

What I am is a sort of stupid
And I hate myself for it every day
Because I’m distracted and I’m lazy
I give up before I’ve started
And trick myself into thinking it’s okay

What I am is incredibly selfish
Though that isn’t what they usually say
They call me kind and honest
As if I’ve excelled in every test
But I’m a stranger to myself each day

What I am is a section of dramatic
Violin symphonies echo through my life
Tales of adventure and amazing
And a great big happy ending
All are lies existing only in my mind

What I am is a little bit sad
Though they tell me that that doesn't count
When I'm falling and shaking
Because a stranger is in pain
Not knowing what their story is about

What I am is a trail of tired
I drag my feet even when I'm happy
Every branch and every stone
Hits me with exhaustion to the bone
And every flower strikes me in the knee