I don't know that knife that I hold
And the hand that holds it isn't mine
The surface around me isn't real
And the feelings I have don't belong to me

Maybe there's hope among all that
But do I own that hope?
Wondering if it's a sparkle of joy I see
And if it's really mine

The blood I bleed belongs to someone else
And the scars on my arms are just borrowed
The masks on my face become a part of me
Of what I once wished to be

What of this is mine, I don't know
And somewhere along the way,
I stopped caring too
Nothing is me, nothing is mine


1.2.02

אני יודעת שזה גרוע, אין צורך לשלוח תגובה שאומרת את זה.