I'm noticing less and less of a separation
Between the woman in my head,
The woman who stands before you,
And the hungry wolf I've fed.

I keep telling myself,
“To be numb will make it feel better”
But then it backfires on me.
I don't feel anxiety or embarrassment from what other people see,
For what I've done or what pushed me there,
I know, it's always me.

Sitting in bed,
Replaying in my head
Everything I ever did or said,
That wasn't me, but just a loose bolt in my head,

Crawling around trying to find a source
To feed the cravings and quench the thirst,
For attention I wanted and thought I would need,
And left me wondering why I'm never the one to leave,
Why I'm always the last woman standing in an empty crowd,
Because my pride is too strong,
Because I refuse to back down.

I wake up angry and sick with my other side,
That put me to sleep and took my body for a ride,
And I don't care if the whole world forgives me,
Because I can't forgive myself,
For starting the night as one person and morphing into someone else.

Maybe it's time to start over and invent someone new,
Or keep true to myself,
which I've never had the nerve to do.
But being numb isn't real,
When I was just born to feel,
A sensitive girl painted with false *** appeal.