I say I trust you, knowing damn well I’m lying to myself. I’d rather die alone than trust that you can save me.
I hate the fact I can’t fight it. Try but just can’t diet, I can’t stomach to keep it down. Don’t trust another mortal.
They’ll kill with any sign of weakness and I believe this. So I take it to my grave, and surrender as its slave.
Fight myself to make me feel again. What I wouldn’t give to be able to cry, and not have the tears in eyes being dead.
Skillful weapon, in this mind of mine. But trust me, it’s been some time since I had any grip of it. Scared of what the difference is?
Mirror shows me people I can’t recognize for nothing. Where’d I go wrong? Why is it that what I feel is so strong? So strung…
…out to dry my heart within this chamber of my love or what I’ve claimed it.
Heartless; made me famous. God, this was my calling? Why was there no warning?
I’m a heart breaker, loves faker, with a fear of falling.