Masked One

It’s funny.
You know me as this person.
This strange, stupid person.
That’s how I act around you
Yet is it me?
Am I real?
Or is it all a mask?

It’s serious.
She knows me as a friend.
A close and listening friend.
That’s what she knows
Is it real?
Am I real?
Is this all a mask?

It’s strange.
He knows me as a dark one.
A depressed and tortured soul.
An identifiable freak.
Is this real?
What is real?
Am I hiding behind a mask?
     
Confused.
Or am I confident?
I just keep changing, keep changing.
Is there even a real me?
Or am I simply layers
Lots of layers,
Layers of masks.

I don’t know.
Or does anyone even know?
What I am, or who I am,
Or who I pretend to be.
Is there a core?
Can I find it?
Who am I?