I need the strength in my life that I seem to have been born without. There is no solitude in the empty words that I spout in the mirror, no beat in a heart that flounders and skips a beat in the open air.  My life seems beyonds words at times, the sense of despondency stops my mouth from uttering a single syllable and the flourish in the typeface falls flat. I want to speak, to scream and shout. I'd settle for a whisper but there is never a sound. There is a lie in my body, a part that is not me, that makes me falter and forces words to spill from my mouth which are not mine, they are dark, and they are hollow. I lie. I ache for the love that surrounds me. A moment to see it for what it is.
I want to succeed in the choices that I have made, to feel that they are not wrong and that the path I have chosen does not stop abruptly. To succeed means to stand alone, to possess strength, to be driven but I am none of those things. I feel fractured, like I'm splitting apart, trapped between who I am and who I need to be. To embrace who I am means to embrace failure, to revel in it and to search for new beginnings born from that seed but how do I embrace the one thing that i'm not allowed to do. The time to stumble and struggle has passed, the walls I built to protect myself have fallen and those who stood by my side are gone. I wait alone to be called out, to be humiliated by my own failure, the shadow cannot hide all my blemishes.
The words that I type are often the words that I wish I could say. To explain seems simple to most but moments of clarity are few, I do not have the answers you seek. I do not have the answer I seek. I shiver with broken sobs that break my silence. I scream to those I wish to speak but never do they hear me. I bury myself behind a person with strength, but she has no backbone, no heart, she speaks and I try to believe her falsified wisdom. I invest in her and words that she says are my own. She smiles, laughs often, but at times she's crumbles too. She speaks freely under pressure and never does she justify herself. She swears, often. They are not my words. The girl you speak to is of my own creation, but I cannot control her. She makes jokes and is crude, she doesn't care for the company of those she cannot read, cannot judge, cannot manipulate. But she states my name as her own and people see her as me, not all but most. Most fall in love with that girl, call that girl their friend, only those masked by themselves can hear a whisper in the wind of another girl, forgotten by most. A girl in hiding who will only be coaxed out with sweet words by those with a truly loving heart who see pain in other and recognise it as their own. 
I feel dry and hollow, devoid of emotion, I have lost myself through the creation of another. I do not blame her for she contains me, she uses my heart to pump blood, my lungs to take a breath but this is our head, we share a space. She is loud and screams over me, she controls me now and tells me when I can speak. When I can type. When I can feel. She falters and leaves me the pieces of her ruin and expects me to fix them, to recreate her, make her better, make her stronger so that she can fight for us. We do not share dreams, our interest are different, our souls are split but there is only one direction we can take together, hers.