I have never thought that feeling empty
could bring me happiness and relief
and I would have never said that I
would be laying, cold and alone in my bed
at 1AM on a Saturday night, believing
believing that the best is yet to come and
you've finally set me free by breaking me
because who will find a better piece of match
for my shattered body and soul, stuffed with cries
than my own hands, my own legs leading me the way

I've certainly written a scenario in my mind
and I've been rehearsing to play this part for too long
astonished, I've read it a thousand times
paying attention to everything but details
and oh, what a fool I've been promising myself
that I would once find the pattern in the stars
that had led me to you, broken and bruised
oh, what a fool I am not for reminding myself
I know my own self the best
having created the concept of my own existence
and passing it into your hands, without realising
that my own demons were always human
without a doubt crossing my path only to bring
the only things I've ever feared, but still
I find my heart more of a decoy than a perception
of all the events existing only n alternative universes
and yet I still manage to underestimate my experience
and keep re-opening the wounds, cutting deeper

why would I ever trust myself
when my own body wants to reach self destruction
putting me on the edge with every decision,
when did I lost the ability of longing to be my own
have I ever belonged to myself anyways?