All along, I was pretentious,

since my first tear to the last,

but never one to live behind false pretenses.

Even so, does that make me a liar?

And they've told me again and again

that you can never miss what you never had,

but the truth's never stopped me from missing

all that would've been.

And by telling false stories that were never my own,

and rewriting my own past to barely get by,

would all of this make me  a liar?

Because if so, I deserve no more than fire,

yet it feels as if I've been burning for far too long.



But some things never change, now do they?