Of my blackened soul
I see my self as nothing,
Going nowhere fast…
You say it's my own fault,
I pushed myself farther down
This fucked up spiral
Of self loathing, that I am my own maker.
And yet you sit there glorifying yourself to me
not seeing that you are the one
that is killing my soul.
Don't you understand, that in your perfect little world
I could never exist?
The me that you want to change me into
Will never truly be me.
You want to make me your perfect vision
Of how I should be.
You tell me change is good,
And it will help me out of the
Dark cycle that you say I am pushing myself in.
Don't you see the only pushing
is you pushing the razor blade
inches closer to my flesh?
You talk of me as though I cannot see
the path that I have chosen for myself.
It is not about you, and your perfect soul,
Rather it's about me, and the hellish road I have chosen
As the path to complete my existence.
So for you I say,
Take your little wanted, fucked up help,
And push it on to someone who will take your shit,
because I know where I am headed,
And what I will one day face -
In the fiery unknown
Written by Angela Ostrander ©1998
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