The Only Exception...

Plastic Reality

I sit in the pew,
And I'm told what to do.
How to move.
How to act.

I'm told there's a purpose,
That I'll get through this.
That it happens to the best.
That I shouldn't look back.

I'm told God has a plan.
That I don't have to stand,
I should kneel and fold my hands,
Put my trust in the Savior.

I go home from church,
I prepare for the worst,
Even as I read the words
Spoken by my maker.

My life is a broken record,
Tired of the words I've always heard.
"Stressed out" is one I learned,
Many, many years ago.

Everything is plastic.
A world of barbies and face masks.
The face paint seems to last,
Even after washing with soap.

Reality is a dream.
At least, that's how it seems.
Like each day is a week,
And each week is a day.

I'm not sure what is real,
Or what I actually feel.
Am I made out of steel,
Or am I made out of clay?

Do my emotions exist?
Does my soul still live?
Why is my hand in a fist?
Who am I fighting?

Am I fighting this world,
And the evils that have unfurled?
No, I am fighting girl.
But who is she?

Her head is down,
And her eyes are brown.
Her hair is short, now,
And... She looks like me.

I see her raise her head high,
And look me straight in the eye,
But I see a light
That shouldn't be there.

It's a fire of pain,
And anger unnamed,
It is danger; untamed;
That I see in her stare.

So I turn, and I flee,
From the person I'm destined to be,
From all that I've seen,
From the hell fire future.

But then I run into one,
That holds the light of the Son.
I wonder where he is from,
Such a unique creature.

I hold out my hand for him to take,
And I watch as he hesitates,
He is afraid to make a mistake,
Afraid of the things that could happen.

I list to him speak his mind,
He speaks with knowledge from the divine.
This one who's soul is much like mine,
One who's eyes pretend to be plastic.

This one of which I speak,
He shares his secrets with me,
He's a radio tuned for me to hear many things,
While the rest of the world receives static.

But when I am alone,
I feel like a clone,
Like the real me isn't home,
And I am taking her place.

I seek and don't find,
Yet they say give it time,
That soon, the sun, it will shine,
That it will soon warm my face.

So, I will stand by my friend,
And I grab hold of his hand,
And know if it all is to end,
I'll go down with honor by the one whom I love.

Because I know he is there,
And he will always care,
Each other's sufferings we share,
Until our end finally comes.