Love.
Something I'm more than ready to fall into,
But that no-one ever seems to want to share with me.
No-one wants to fall in love with me, No matter how hard I try.
I'm still me, and that's the problem, it seems.
'Me' is something impossible to love.
And it kills me every time,
Like a knife in my heart, twisting round.
But I put on my mask every day and pretend to live,
Even though inside
I'm already dead...
