I don't think I was cut out for living
None of this ever makes sense
I don't know if I was made for caring
Whenever I do, it never works out

Should I even bother to mask my pleasure with pain?

I'm so confused
Spiralling in feeling I'll never understand
I'm so amused
At my  capacity for ignorance, Or I just want to believe
And I'm abused
In my sin for lust I gave up the truth
I gave up myself for wanting to love you 

In flames
I find some purpose for what I wish I could be
I burn
I punish myself for the blind faith I let you feed

And so I bleed
Pouring out myself to fill your need
Your souls a carrier
And in me you've sewn disease

Force feed me your bitterness
Regurgitating the loneliness
Stitching parts of me, the simplest
Trying to fill up the emptiness