1000 parts

I could live in a thousand places
and live a thousand lives,
but no matter the many faces
I cannot escape the lies

I could breathe the alpine fog,
maybe taste the salty air?
Though wherever I run to
I am left myself to bear.

I have sprinkled secrets like bread crumbs
and left them lie in my wake
as soon as sun's facade slips
I'm vulnerable for memories to take.

They creep just inside the shadow lands.
The cracks in your mask they seek-
waiting withing the darkest hour,
attacking when you are most weak.

I've tried out many costumes
and played a thousand roles.
Nothing seems to ease the pain
in which history takes its toll.