I tend to lose myself
when someone would confess to me
I guess I'm under pressure
afraid they wouldn't like what they see
so I wear this fake disguise
and start another act
I tend to ruin things
to keep myself intact
still I've got more traces and scars
then no eye could see
I know life ain't supposed to be easy but
why is breathing made so heavily!?
my trembling body trying to be still
it's like my storming head
need to keep myself detained
to not feel my dread
I think I'm scared of life
and what it could do to me
I think I'm scared to die
and to face everything I see
I miss the feeling of being loved
to know that someone would care
but I don't think I'm worth it
life weren't made to be fair
No comments:
Post a Comment