Do you breathe the same air that I do? Do you feel your hands colliding with the walls too? Feeling physical, I bet that's true. I've lived too long you see. I cant pay attention to the air I no longer breathe. You see me for who I am. But you'll never see the true me. Because we're living in a world of uncertainty. We're living in a world of repressed positivity. And you'll never know the real me. And you'll never believe me. For the lies that you've been given have become facts in your hands. Breaking through the dust and sand. Of a time so long ago forgotten and you're running out of breath. And as we get closer to the end. All the memories you begin to shred.