don't know if it gets any better,
don't know if it gets any worse.
i've broken myself
just to be reassembled
in rumours and whispers
and false metaphors.
it's not who i am,
stop scratching the surface.
i'm buried behind
private property signs.
dissect all you want,
take things out of context,
just never apply them
to me.
i'm alright.
well, maybe not now,
but i certainly will be
as long as the public
can leave me alone.
i've pushed myself off
the edge,
but it clearly
was never enough,
you will always want more.
and now i don't know
if it gets any better,
and now i'm not sure
it can get any worse.
what's broken sometimes
shouldn't be reassembled,
this person you've made up
holds little resemblance.
it's not who i am,
it's not who i was.