We mock, and we tear, and we break, and we rip,
Because we judge, and we assume, and we analyze...

You know that feeling,
when you are surrounded by a crowd...

Why do you choose to sit there alone,
Holding the scissors, the knife, the razor blade...

Empty hollowness.
My heart is hardened...

I can't want her.
This emotion is contrary to my piety...

Sometimes
and by sometimes...

I am not good enough for you,
I messed up just like I always do...

Late at night most are tucked in bed,
Warm and cozy amid layers of cotton comfort...

I am,
the voice for that sorrow...

I am your shield,
against the world...

Sleep.
Wake...

I fail to be. . .
I fail to be me...