i am not, but am, and will, and are being and ceasing forever

I am but a tiny insignificant voice in the mass,
Others are stronger than mine, they are more fierce and powerful than mine,
I am squished in between, I fall through the cracks, I cannot see the sky.

The world is a living, breathing, thing,
It festers unimaginable energies, impossible, indescribable, real:
Tragedies, comedies, romances, and those things in between.
I am a part of them yet not, and still can be on a micro level.

They drown me out.
I get swept aside.
But I am still a drop in the sea.

Seeing is believing, but what I believe isn't real,
And I'm okay with that.
Everything around me is a hoax of my own imagining,
But I already know that.
Insignificant as I am, this is my telling, spinning, of reality
So I can live with that.

Treasure me as someone who told you of secret things,
Private things that exist in lonely basements,
That manifest themselves in haunting ravines.
There are whispers merely for you and me,
There is a micro world of dreams.