The time now is short.

My progress is in the way.

I'm a warrior.

I overheard some loudmouth proclaim
that you are nothing but trash
If that’s true then you could say
that I must be the refuse collector
because I looked at you
and saw something to treasure.

Everyone thought she was the
icing on the cake.


Little did they know
she was the sparklers you put
on the cake.

Every time I convince myself to let you go, you smile at me~

The scattered shards of my soul and heart,
You see me try,
Trying to fix them,
But they are chipped, cracked,
A few are missing,
They're discoloured,
Stained by my trauma,
Yet,
Here I am.

This disease struck me
Like a brick on pavement
Hard

Everything was
Perfect
Then that brick came along
And with the slightest movement
Destroyed everything

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
The voices say

Why can’t I let them go?
They keep repeating:

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
Why won’t they stop

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
I don’t understand

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
Someone just HELP me understand

This disease is about
Perfection
But it's the biggest
Imperfection about me