You say I am loved,
But she says I am not —
You say I am worthy,
But she says I am rot.
You say I am loved,
But I can’t feel a thing.
You say I am wonderful,
But she says I am paradoxical.
You say you love all of me, every single part —
But she says I am dispicable...
You say I am loved,
But I can’t hear a word.
Somedays Your voice resonates and is resolute,
But she is always in the background, muffling the airwaves.
Then, You remind me that I am forgiven —
And that’s the nail in her coffin, gone to the grave.
Jan 2
Jan 2, 2026 at 11:53 PM UTC
You say I am loved,
But she says I am not —
You say I am worthy,
But she says I am rot.
You say I am loved,
But I can’t feel a thing.
You say I am wonderful,
But she says I am paradoxical.
You say you love all of me, every single part —
But she says I am dispicable...
You say I am loved,
But I can’t hear a word.
Somedays Your voice resonates and is resolute,
But she is always in the background, muffling the airwaves.
Then, You remind me that I am forgiven —
And that’s the nail in her coffin, gone to the grave.
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