I want to get better, I try, but i'm not sure if thats any use. Im empty, i'm shallow, this outer appearance is just an illusion for you not to worry. The real emptiness is inside my head, in my veins, behind my eyes. Blinding me of the joy of everything, but i'll fake a smile now and then for you not to worry. I wish I could feel, but I lost the will to travel on, and that has taken it. I'm just a being existing but absent of life. I'm just here, lost, not wanting to be found.