if i
were better
would i
not care
when i
***** up
or if
i erupt
or if
my teardrops
fall down
my face,
should i mask up
all my shame
or leave that to the drama
the drama of not being
good enough or
smart enough or
tough enough or
strong enough or
any of the things
that fly around my head
keeping me up at night
while i lay in my bed
scared of these feelings
i feel
feeling red
do i think i am
better off alive than i am
dead?
'cause i
wake up in the morning
and i wish i could still dream
'bout all the things i dreamed about
before i was a teen
'bout the things i'd given up on
ever since i learned to see
that all of my dreams
are
just
hopeless...
and i
take my medication
and i
put on my mask
and i
do everything i can
to pretend
and play
and distract
myself from who i am
and try to enjoy this life
although sometimes all i want to do
is break free from this strife
the chains of my insanity
are still on my wrists
the heaven i had made for me
is falling out my grip
the heaven i had made for me
using my hell as the bricks
and i close my eyes
and think of a better time
when i
was so innocent
i thought everything was splendid
i had no idea
how much
hurt
and grief
and inner screams
and loss
and tears
and judging stares
and stress
and pain
and going insane
was in this world.
if i
were better
maybe i
could lie
and i
would say
"i'm fine."
Apr 14
Apr 14, 2026 at 1:26 PM UTC
if i
were better
would i
not care
when i
***** up
or if
i erupt
or if
my teardrops
fall down
my face,
should i mask up
all my shame
or leave that to the drama
the drama of not being
good enough or
smart enough or
tough enough or
strong enough or
any of the things
that fly around my head
keeping me up at night
while i lay in my bed
scared of these feelings
i feel
feeling red
do i think i am
better off alive than i am
dead?
'cause i
wake up in the morning
and i wish i could still dream
'bout all the things i dreamed about
before i was a teen
'bout the things i'd given up on
ever since i learned to see
that all of my dreams
are
just
hopeless...
and i
take my medication
and i
put on my mask
and i
do everything i can
to pretend
and play
and distract
myself from who i am
and try to enjoy this life
although sometimes all i want to do
is break free from this strife
the chains of my insanity
are still on my wrists
the heaven i had made for me
is falling out my grip
the heaven i had made for me
using my hell as the bricks
and i close my eyes
and think of a better time
when i
was so innocent
i thought everything was splendid
i had no idea
how much
hurt
and grief
and inner screams
and loss
and tears
and judging stares
and stress
and pain
and going insane
was in this world.
if i
were better
maybe i
could lie
and i
would say
"i'm fine."
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