It used to make me bitter when I’d wake and think about her.
I used to smoke myself to sleep and drown myself in liquor.
I used to fall for so much shit. I used to be naive.
All because I loved someone that never could love me.
I used to feel so worthless, like my last name was Wrong.
I wrote so many poems and composed so many songs,
that the effect was dulled, machete turned to butter knife
Is that all I’d ever be? Is this my entire life?
I am not the person that I was back then at all.
And even when I tried to slip, I couldn’t seem to fall.
My skin has grown another skin and no matter what I say
I can’t become the thing I was, when it’s that far away.
And I refuse to be that anyway.
I refuse to be that.