Who Are You?

I don't know.
Shadows under my eyes 
try to answer the question.
They're blue and sinking deeper, fast.

I am the girl who sings
who writes poetry
who stands on a stage
pretending to be someone else, and I'm good at it.

I don't know.
My eyes feel dragged
as though the shadows are
pulling my eyelids, down, down down.

I am the girl who is gray
who can't say that she's sad
who feels alone
but knows the isolation is no one's fault, but her own.

I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know, know, know.

I should know
but my dual existence
is impossible to bear.

My eyes close, my heartbeat
slows.

The darkness doesn't save me from the question.