[...I was on the fence, and I never wanted your two cents...]

Been somebody else for so long. I can barely recall what it's like to be me. 

Will anything I've accomplished be kept, having been somebody else for so long?

Who was I in that year-long dream?

Does she differ?

I remember climbing on rooftops.

I remember drinking the evenings away happily, as wonderful, electric emotions played with my body.

I remember running about in the city of trees.

I remember boys and their sweaters.

I'm neither who I was before nor who I was during.

All I know is that I like a song that was introduced to me today.

I have no clue who I am.