Maybe I’d be happier if I could learn to love myself.
But if you don’t love who you are or your own reflection, how are you supposed to try?
I guess I’m stuck in a permanent state of changing my disguise.
Because who I am is lost and no longer mine.
I just wish I could get myself back.
But I’m inept and left with whatever’s in my flask.
This life is filled with the most meaningless tasks.
Everything got ****** away and there’s little joy cast.
How am I not more of a mess?
Nothing of mine is locked away in my chest.
I guess that’s why I can’t do away with the stress.
Because my being got torn from me and I know I can’t handle what’s next.

The days of thinking I was good enough are gone.
Will there ever be a happy song?
Why did everything go this wrong?
I’ll never love or be loved, but it’s the truth.
If only I could try to change my luck by finding my shoes.
But everything is way too misconstrued.
And I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to continue.
So as I try to find a way to stay okay, I’ll hope that I can change my fate.
Maybe I’ll find another way to reach the stars.
Because I don’t know if I’ll ever get back all of my lost heart.

It’s like they planned my life in hell.
That’s probably why all I can do is dwell.
I’m nothing more than a ****** up shell.
Trapped somewhere in this vessel with no way out.
So why is this still going on?
Every single life I’ve ever lived was never even me.
Who the **** am I? I honestly can’t see.
It’s no wonder my life is almost always falling get apart at the seams.
Just let me sit by the ocean for better scenery.
Because all of this is so hard to conceive.
But it’s my life and I’m left strapped down with no way to break free.
I still can’t understand why life is so ******.
I can’t see it any other way, **** everyone who did this to me I’ve had way more than enough.
What’s the point of covering up the truth?
I guess that’s why I can’t find my shoes.

My life is a mess.
Is it just mine?
Or are there others suffering like me?
**** this petty *******.
I guess it doesn’t matter what I see.
It’s something I have a hard time trying to conceive.
Why does it always have to be about me?
I’m sure I’m not the only way who mourns this way with no will to play.
So why is life like a game?
I’m slowly going insane.
And I’m too weak to fathom the coming days.
So why can’t I escape?
I guess it’s where the masquerade and loop want me to stay.
**** why can’t things just work out.
Life isn’t a joke, there’s a reason for hope.
I guess it’s only a matter of time till I choke.
I just wish there were another way to make people see, that life could be better for everyone, and if I’m lucky maybe even me.

Why did I end up like this?
They ****** me over for too long and turned me into everything I swore I would never be.
Is that why they take the truth away?
It’s so misconstrued, how many others are hoping for a better day?
Why do they have to cover everything up?
It’s been long overdue that I’ve had more than enough.
So why do they keep picking everything apart?
I’m more damaged than whatever they did to my heart.
Why do they play god?
There’s no use in beating the odds.
Because they map everything out.
And give those less fortunate a harder life.
I don’t know about you but it makes me want to tear out my insides.
Would things be easier if I just gave in and took my own life?
I want to fix things but there’s seldom me left inside.
So why is everyone taking others lives into their own hands?
You can’t get rid of bad karma on other people’s hands.
So what’s with this cruel master plan?
They left me hopeless and it makes me want others to suffer less, so I guess now I have my own plans.
I don’t know what they’re doing or why.
But they make me die a little bit everyday even though I’m running out of time.
Too many people wear a disguise.
So why the **** won’t they do something of value and stop ******* with peoples lives.

Where’s the barbed wire I want to tie up your limbs, squeeze till it turns blue and slit open your wrists.
Rip out your veins and shove them in your mouth.
Rip out your tongue like you’re rotting in hell.
Nail your eyeballs into the socket, sew your lips together, cut them off and put them in your pocket.
Get a tile cutter to split apart your feet to your knees,
Get a sledgehammer to shatter your femur because you’ve already brought me to my knees.
Set you ablaze for all of this torment.
You all ****** me over before everyone was for it.
So excuse me for wanting to get revenge.
But you can’t expect to torture someone their whole existence and for them to not turn out like this.

(Directed at the masquerade or whoever the hell is out to get me. Awesome.)

I guess it’s better to hate and be hated, than try to make amends because no one would let me change this.
Why the **** would I crawl back to the ones who did this to me?
It’s all such a twisted cycle ran by fear and greed.
So I guess all the seeds of hate that you planted worked.
I hope everyone rots and I want it to hurt.
I used to think all of this was something never deserved.
But the majority of my existence seems like some people deserve the worst.
And I’m not golden either because I turned out this way.
But believe me when I say I will never again pray for another way.
This was the pettiest torment I’ve ever experienced.
I’d rather burn in hell or get tortured in notre dame.
I guess I was right because everyone’s the same.
******* people over until they have it their way.
Just rot in ******* hell or get tortured all the same.