It's Not Me

It's not me.
I don't usually do this.
I'm not normally like this.

So where have I been then?
It's not me.
Where have I gone?
How long ago did I leave?
Can anyone still see me?
And who should I believe, is me?
I'm sure that by the water somewhere, among the broken things that gather there.

I might be found, safe and sound.
Why can't I feel? The sadness walks around me. All the terrible
Things that I see. How beautiful it's supposed to be, to me?