You like sugar in your green tea,
two spoons and milk and ice cubes

You like music with your books,
cocooned in linen, bright and alone

You like colors splattered on paper,
rich and free like you never were

You don't sing, except in showers,
drowned by rain so no one hears you

You don't look anywhere but inside
to assign blame between your scars

You don't dream; only nightmares
etched into by your mind crying for help

But underneath it all
who are you really
I'd like to know

You shut your door on everybody
but did you know
you locked yourself out
now you have to open up
and let me take a look
at who you are

Who are you really
I'd like to know

who I am