Versions of Me
Who am I to question the inevitable.
Telling lies so I can to validate the Illusion.
These prying eyes are open and they're Giving me looks.
For this disguise is looking just a little Peculiar.
How many versions of me
Do there have to be,
To get to this reality.
How many versions of me?
Aeons of eternal damnation, strewn Across the blue skies of our troubled Minds.
What to do when only you believe you?