Hot tears spill
despite the efforts of my fists
deep in my eye sockets.
Even behind the void,
my sensitivity escapes.
Even when I think I've outgrown it,
it comes back like a curl around my heart.

If only I could black out
without causing them any worries,
and in my greatest passion
to deal with my pain,
there's still something left to criticize.

If only I could show
how flawed I am.
Prove that I'm not the perfect child
they hoped for.
If only I could stop feeling
the world around me
as a burden in my chest.