I don’t know what happened to my being.
Without the pain of a tormented life I can’t handle breathing.
It’s something that’s hard to keep conceiving, but why is every part of myself fleeting?
I don’t know how to gain what I once felt.
At least I feel more than just a shell.
But that doesn’t keep me from starting to dwell.
No one can go through this demented race, with their being so torn that it’s not even their true face.
So why do they keep it going?
It’s all lies that are unfolding.
Where the **** am I even going?
There’s no hope that’s showing.
I just want to feel the blade because death is the only salvation I’ll probably ever end up knowing.

Lost in this web of chaotic lies.
It’s clear they used me to create every disguise.
So why is all they care about my demise?
I can’t even feel alive in the sunlight.
And so the plot continues to get more distorted.
Recreating themselves is what cause my being to become so contorted.
So what is “all of the work” that they “don’t want to be for nothing”?
I’m still not bluffing.
It’s my consciousness that’s torn.
And my being that’s become so worn.
There will never be a way to even the score.
Because they always wanted too much, I just wanted to be myself, nothing more.
So I guess it’s been misconstrued my whole existence.
I’m a waste of space and life should never turn out like this.

I’m running up a winding staircase.
I can’t see where I’m going, what’s left of this demented race?
I just need to find a new place, or maybe my own saving grace.
But I feel so scattered, how will I escape the latter?
Everything seems muffled and so unclear.
I still can’t figure out what I’m still doing here.
So as I keep running towards any beam of light, I’ll try to keep my dreams in sight.
As I hope I don’t fade away into the night.
And maybe hold someone near to help rid the fright.

My being is filling up with rage and hate.
Why the **** can’t I get off of this hell bound page?
I wish the worst for the masquerade.
The pettiness is growing and it’s driving me insane.
I have no will to live unless I **** them dead.
Why the **** can’t they just be done with the torment because I can’t stand them getting into my head.

when I was younger,
i envisioned a future of makeup,
femininity, pretty dresses and falling in love.
drinking, partying and running through the fields of youth.

but here i am,
crawling into my sheets
crying all hours
and nothing about me is pretty,
i am not loved
i am not running through fields of youth,
im running from them
and they were always faster than me.

Sometimes my eyes flood, and i can't escape the tides.
Sometimes the storm lingers, and i'm stuck in their disguise.
Sometimes the sun shines down on me, and i forget the fear.
Sometimes i feel alone, because no one is ever near.
Will i ever find my way out of this sequence?
A part of me doesn't believe it.
I'm sinking deeper into the pit.
Did it ever matter where i chose to sit?
I still can't fathom how it came to this.
So as i try to get out of remiss, i'll hope that my someday comes.
And i'll finally feel effervescent in bliss.

I still remember the day you left.
And how my heart started wrenching in my chest.
The days passed, and you were still the only one I wanted.
Maybe I was lost for a while, but I smile remembering how it started.
You were my music, in a dreary world.
A daydream come to life, you were that beautiful something that unfurled.
But now I’m left cold and alone.
Trying to melt my heart of stone.
But our memories I hold dear.
Hoping one day I might once again hold you near.