Blurry lines, and shaky hands,
Singing bands and broken bonds,
Unanswered questions, chaos inside my head,
Unclean sink and monsters under my bed.
How did I go from being alive to hated the way I breathe?
When did I stopped reading even a single myth?
How did I go from being fragile to apathetic?
When did I turned my back from the life's aesthetic?
When I was eight, I fell from the tree,
When I turned ten, all I wanted is to be free
Felt fatherless, she dealt with too much sadness,
Now, that she's eighteen, she embraced the brokenness,
She listens, but when she speaks, she's being silenced,
Feelings aren't allowed, 'cause she doesn't have the license,
Shattered illusions with the idea of living,
How did I go from well-wishing to holding on to dying?
