I’ll blame in on my mind
But maybe it’s just me at heart
Self-sabotaging and ruining
The littles things i’ve got

Crying bout how everyone runs away
But they must have their reasons
Playing the sweet old victim
But what if I’m the villain

Born from isolation and no communication
Only in my head have a decent conversation
Bathing in puddles of tears formed by self pity
I need to stop making myself out to be pretty

Lying in the mirror, but begging for truths
Never giving myself time to settle the roots
No memory of myself, my life or my youth
Still in search of a saviour, someone will suit
Will someone please soothe

To have so much potential, but nothing to give
A pumping heart with no will to live
Dreams collecting dust on a shelf
Obsessing over but loathing myself