"my body is tired with torn hands
I want to be perfect, more and more
but nothing changes, it only ever hurts"

"when will you be happy?"

"never... I live miserably,
wanting to work myself to exhaustion
waiting for death's release of this worthless vessel
that hates me deeply
perishing underneath dirt and pebble
no one will want me, need me
I will be forgotten and my ideals of perfection soon to be rotten"