Nothing

Standing on the verge of dreams
Nothing's ever as it seems
Scratching, clawing for a scrap of reality
Images flash across your face
Images of what you are
Of who you are
You don't like what you see
Suddenly this dream has become a nightmare
All that there is something that is so overbearing
How could things have ever come to this?
How did this even happen?
How could who you are on the inside have turned into this?
When did it turn to this?
Sure, on the outside, all is beautiful
Pulled together
Perfect
But no
You now see and grasp what it is that has haunted you for so long
It is the real you

This...

This nothingness that is displayed before you

How?

....how?