...

I weep for cast-off hopes and cut-off futures.
I didn't think about it all to much then, but I think about it way too much now
My fears echo in my head, "this world is not kind."
You're too kind to me.

Despiration...
I sharpen myself into a weapen, to protect myself from this world.
There is truth in pain, so I'll cut myself free from this world.
Everyday is a reminder of whats been done.
Of prices long paid.

And they say time heals all wounds,
these scars only seem to fade away.
I grieve a life I never had.
One I wouldn't even want.

Would you have liked me if you thought I was normal?
Sometimes my worth feels measured in the stars.
If I burn bright enough could you glimpse my shattered heart?
Or will it get covered by the light of this city.