Confess, I have to confess.
Who's on the other side of my confessional?
I've thought wrong, I could've thought another, why can't I control what I think?
Confess it, lay your sin.
If I confess my thought, I fear it'll make it real. It's harmless in my head, it's abstract.
But is it?
Look at who you've hurt, the person you love. But never you, why would you care about you?
You should be perfect. Be your best self.
When my best self is deconstructed, all I am is fear.
So confess it, lay your burdens on another.
Be selfish, lay your irrationality for someone else to detangle.
Your strength is fragile, trust me.
I know you,
I know all of you, your deepest fear, your subconscious.
Trust me, you're all that I am.
So confess, give in.
I'm your religion, I'm your truth.
The truth is,
you're not worth love.
the tip of the iceberg
