He is I.

Suddenly swallowed,
As in the choking down of a settling...
Realizing I'm not handling it all normal.
Realized that for a long time.
People's words are knives cause he never cared and it's weird you care.
No way to explain anymore, other than it's true in the insanity...no way to make it go away.
In Another Perfect Life playing... wondering if you're alone for Christmas?
Wondering why my perfect love for you isn't enough?
Wondering why it's so wrong!!!???
All these flaws...in my story. 
All these chinks in our armour.
How much thought, how much effort?
How much discussion to turn up empty, alone?
Not obsession...just the occasional tear slipping away from me in time.
Just the question of empty arms oblivion?
You're just my character based on somewhere, something my soul longs for...
Bootstraps pulled. Big girl panties don't fit.
Wanna kick. Wanna scream! Not fair! Not fair!
Where's your promise God!? What's taking so long?
Or is the promise in the destiny itself?
Or is the promise that it was my own reflection I saw in the mirror...
The day I saw him standing there?
Can it be he is merely a piece of me?
A sparkle in my eye, and a fragment of my heart?
How can this be I is he?
The good things I wished to see in me...I made into he.
He is my hero.
He is my character.
He is I.