I have died a million deaths Became a haven of more graves than I dared to live Became a widow of my own soul Covered myself with the cloak of death mourning the glory of loss upon us Dressed myself in more insults with a dash of curses than your devotion As I dangled from the roof of your mercy petitioning for your worthy heart Became an ambassador of your threats to disappear than your affection But again and again I return to you In hope that one day you might believe that I am not what you are used to