Song is Silhouettes by Echos. Check it.
Then let's talk feelings.
Like feelings that overwhelm you.
I don't know where to start, let's deal with it later feelings.
Emo, Dashboard Confessional, black nail polish, I never belonged feelings.
And yet I try to adapt.
When I go to write my mind becomes as blank as the page.
The memories cut, leaving me vulnerable.
I confess my wrong doings, my shame, my imperfections.
That's what my life has been.
Even though I'm exploding with thoughts.
Things I want to share with you.
Things I want to purge.
Things I want to forget.
Things I wish I never thought.
Things I wish I never felt.
Things I can't speak about.
And yet they scream from my skin.
Your traces burn and the smoke lingers.
Your traces burn and the smoke lingers.
The only time I feel centered is when I write.
When I rip the words out of my throat and slam them against the wall.
An unorganized, honest attempt at expressing myself.
At making sense of myself.
I dare you to tell me my worst fears.
Tell me I don't belong.
Tell me I'm too much.
Tell me you don't understand.
An unorganized, honest attempt at expressing myself.
At making sense of myself.
I dare you to tell me my worst fears.
Tell me I don't belong.
Tell me I'm too much.
Tell me you don't understand.
The memories cut, leaving me vulnerable.
I confess my wrong doings, my shame, my imperfections.
Everytime I write I stutter.
I speak my truth.
And I want to fix it.
And I want to fix it.
It can be better.
That's what my life has been.
It can be better.
I can be better.
And yet there's a voice in me that wants to accept me as I am.
I want to be as impulsive and imperfect as I am.
And yet there's a voice in me that wants to accept me as I am.
I want to be as impulsive and imperfect as I am.
Is anyone else as confused as I am?
I feel like the unknown destination in front of me should be exciting.
Should give me hope.
But it gives me dread.
I fantasize about a life that isn't mine.
Toy with what self-acceptance looks like.
I never can escape 14 year old me.
The one who decided that starving herself was the way to live.
Limiting her food, bingeing on men.
Limiting her food, bingeing on men.
And now I'm full of regrets.
I want to be someone.
I want to matter.
I want to matter.
I cannot be no one.
Because then I will become as insignificant as I feel.
As deep as the hole in my heart is.
Wanting a father who could never be there.
And a mother who had no more to give.
And it's not fair.
And a mother who had no more to give.
And it's not fair.
And it'll never be fair.
Because the only person that can make it better is the one who caused it.
All I want is you to say my name.
To see me.
Everyone else saw me but you.
And judged me.
And I was this thing.
This beautiful thing.
That never amounted to anything.
Starved, abused, confused.
Everyone else saw me but you.
And judged me.
And I was this thing.
This beautiful thing.
That never amounted to anything.
Starved, abused, confused.
You did this to me and now I'm captive.
Held by your actions and impulses.
Held by your sickness and weakness.
I don't want to be a grown-up anymore.
I don't want to have to stand tall.
I want to be held.
I want to be safe.
But my soul is housed in a graveyard.
But my soul is housed in a graveyard.
And my body is my enemy.
And my mind plays tricks.
You stole something from me.
I'm paying debt to your sin.
I will never be safe.
I will never be home.
I will never be who I should be.
Because I can never escape who you made me.
