I'm scrambling trying to find the pieces
And I would like to say a few things
1)  I'm sorry
I start to see the fear of what made me
What made me will break me
I carry this familiarity like a knife to my skin
And I'm scrambling to fill the bleeding holes with the very things that Caused them to bleed
I am thoroughly convinced I could destroy an entire city with my hands
Which brings me to point two
2) Don't take it personally if I stay three steps away when you come close
I'm a ticking tomb in a building that starts to burn when I crumble
My mind is the building
Every story
Every window
A part of the person I used to be
3) I don't want to die
I still can't figure out if the building is the people I love
Or if it's myself
But It  burns just the same
I don't want to die