So numb, but yet so right

I’m standing up like a fading star in the night

Right hand blemished by the smell of smoke

enticed by it’s presence I choke and choke

So numb, but yet so right

I’m writing my identity

I’m writing what you cannot see

I write my thoughts of who i am

something abstract, something you cannot understand

something I can’t see

something intangible, something I cannot believe

So numb, but so right

How do these feelings coincide?

is one the truth and one a lie?

but these two things I can’t deny

if you were here, you’d ask me why

as all these questions multiply

So numb, but yet so right

My bleeding identity

something seen as somberly

something neither you or I will ever see…