I'm the type of person that gets done
Or so it seems. I masquerade in the perception of being competent
Because I wanted to be the one who didn't always fuck up and be a part of the problem.

There came a time when I always wanted to be the golden child,
And at first that was the unhealthy, gilded perfectionism we so often reach for
Now it's the art of bullshitting, knowing that there are the glamorous parts I can present and hide the Hyde deep inside.

No, I know that it isn't supposed to be this way.
And yet I smile and say hi to everyone in sight because I think that
You, me, and all of them, what we've been through means that these relationships are the only things that matter.

I remember when everything fell apart and I wanted to keep my safe distance.
At first I wanted to cover myself and make sure I was okay.
Self-care, they told me was important.

But self-care was never more important than you, brother.
And it never will be. I can see that you're still in pain.
And even though I'm still at arms-length and a distance, know that I see it, that even though I don't show it, there's a lot of me that feels it too.

Only we know what growing up in that place was like.
To most people we were the weird ones. I'm just the faker within the goblet's playhouse,
Able to act like I'm the normal person here, in this world where no one shares about stuff that you and me went through and saw.

Was it a prison, brother? Was it a place that kids were supposed to be?
I'm not too sure. I just remember that you were older and stronger.
Maybe there was a war I was sheltered from that you had to protect me from.

To this day, I never know.
To this day, we haven't talked about it.
One day, and I don't know when that day is, we should.