As I take this match and set myself on fire, I reminisce about the sad desire that I once carried in my heart
Before it was ripped apart
Before I was sitting in a corner, being a hoarder and holding my mind and thoughts captive
I wouldn’t let them escape
I hated the feeling of being depressed but I loved the feeling of pain that I was feeling
So much that a knife couldn’t hurt me
So much that a lighter couldn’t burn me
I have flaws
I wear my heart on...