This here is my truth.
It's raw, scarred flesh
A disgrace to look upon,
But this maggot-infested truth
Is mine.
Yours, my sweet-tempered lover,
Lies elsewhere,
In the midst of glorious joy
That everyone longs for.
Your truth, my honey-eyed darling,
Is one to be accepted with open arms,
Unlike mine
Which must be accepted only under the harshest conditions.
This is my truth:
I am not who I say I am.

I used to love the way your words flowed in a perfect harmony
But now all I hear is a boring, bland, buzz
That haunts me everywhere I go.
I used to adore the way you smiled at everything
But now all I want to do is smack the grin off your face
That takes in all my worries as a joke.
I used to love the person who I thought you were;
A person that always listened and understood
A person that would follow me to the end of the world and beyond.
I used to crave a person that did not exist
So instead I loved you.

Why have I become lost
In the midst of a hollow forest
That crushed my lungs
With its emptiness?
All I wanted was to love
A hated being
Filled with empty empathy
And shallow passion.

I'm sitting on my thrown,
made of gold;
Laughing like a madman,
Because that's who I am.