I remember the days when I was innocent
not a care in the world, no trouble on my mind
the first ten years golden, they lasted forever
who knew the day would come when I and her would be severed

love is lost then came anger then sadness
who knew that that would be enough to beat me near death
I wipe the tears and tend to my wounds
confused I find myself lost and afraid

I muster up every ounce of courage left in me
and I continue this long and awful journey
I know not where I go
I just know I mustn't stay here....

Who am I?
Who I am
I am who?
I am who I am

My name matters not
till it matters to you
I love you
won't you love me too?

What does the perfectionist do
When they realize
Perfection
Is an illusion.

When everything they've strived for
Is rendered
Futile.
All for not.

When there's nothing left
To achieve
The only thing to do

Is give up.