I have everything I've always wanted
But the feeling doesn't go away.
My eyes, my heart, my head are exhausted
I'm not used to feeling okay.

And those moments, when I feel like crying,
When I close my eyes and feel alone,
They haunt me down, and I'm shivering,
Scared that those problems will always be my own.

Life has never been perfect to me
And I don't believe in miracle.
How crazy would it be to be free
Of feeling afraid, lost, horrible ... ?

Forget what they tell you
About being a masterpiece
You are not art

You are not stagnate beauty,
Nor were you created for the pleasure of others

You were not meant to be marveled at
by the simple minded
Or ridiculed for your every flaw

You are not art

You are wind
Sending chills through the bones
of those in your presence

You are fire
Spitting embers with a coal-coated tongue

You are water
A bubbling stream of euphoric laughter

No, you are not art
You are so much more

Every other issue
A love that consumed me

This is goodbye
Petrified

Weak and tired
I've spent more than a few weeks feeling weak and tired

I am ill
In more ways then one
I feel pain
Sometimes none

My vices are killing me
My body can't handle them like it used to

I am growing older
I am drifting away