what parents you must got,
to be there for an awful soul,
how could you not be fed up,
by someone who is never full.
I'm scared that I'll rot,
by losing my power of control,
I know I gave you my golden cup,
I don't want to be seen awful.
yet you tie me in this knot,
one second feeling whole,
the next thinking it's a set-up,
my mind full of charcoal.
and then you held me.
and it didn't feel unreal.
you showed me genuineness.
you showed me myself.
you understood
you made me feel real.
