And those people around me they see my mask
no cracks, no slip offs, but now I'm breaking down.
I'm tired, physically and mentally;
just want to let it out but afraid of being judged on.
Putting on a smile I don't even know
who's that living my life, staring into the mirror.
Walks the footsteps I do not hear,
but travels the Earth with such fragile beating heart
and in the end, I'm not the person I wanted to be.
Not even me, in the least, just a hypocrite
whose name was tainted with the many flaws we have.
And this person, who was once I, she talks of typical things-
people who listen are always different.
The way she moves and behaves;
so different from me. So not me. She's not me.

And there's that someone who tells me that
I've to be authentic.
What's that word mean now?
it's not related to me now that I've became someone like this,
I'm not worth anything, so don't try to save me.
Authentic doesn't suit me, someone who's not me.