I like to write things down but I don't like to read them
I like to draw pictures but I don't like to keep them
We tell ourselves we are special, well today I feel especially worthless

I sit and feel like every component of my physical form could serve a greater purpose than it's used for
I suppose the world is far too cruel to let us live in a fantasy for too long

Reality eventually sings her funeral song

Lately I feel as hard as diamonds, but with none of their shine
Lately I could murder men and bathe in their blood
I could cut this failure into my flesh and salt the wound to death

This gaping hole in my chest just breathes fire, just breathes unrest

But how do I rest? How do I breathe? And will I ever truly forgive?
Maybe I'll never truly be free; now that you've let him see a side of you that was meant for me
You were supposed to be the one I walked through heaven and hell with

I'm a martyr, slain by lions in front of mocking sinners
I'm a slave, beaten like a dog until he begs for mercy
I'm a cancer patient, weakened by disease and the treatment he endures
I'm the father, and the mother

Sometimes I feel like I was born doomed for hell or made perfectly for heaven

It's black or white
It's life or death
Always binary options and polar opposites, but life is grey

Made perfectly for heaven

I'm sleepless nights, thoughts taunting you as you beg for a seconds rest
I'm her smile when she delivered the final blow

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