I'm becoming less defined as days go by (fading away,) and well (you might say) I'm losing focus, kinda drifting into the abstract in terms of how I see myself. Less concerned about fitting into the world (your world that is.) 'cause it doesn't really matter anymore (no it doesn't really matter anymore.) None of this really matters anymore. Yes, I am alone (but then again I always was as far back as I can tell...) I think maybe it's because... because you were never really real to begin with. I just made you up to hurt myself. And it worked. Yes it did ! There is no you, there is only me. There is no you, there is only me. There is no FUCKING you, there is only me. THERE IS NO FUCKING YOU, THERE IS ONLY ME. Well, the tiniest little dot caught my eye and it turned out to be a scab (and I had this funny feeling like I just knew it's something bad.) I just couldn't leave it alone, I kept picking at the scab : it was a doorway trying to seal itself shut, but I climbed through. Now I am somewhere I am not supposed to be, and I can see things I know I really shouldn't see (and now I know why, now, now, now I know why ! things aren't as pretty on the inside...) There is no you, there is only me. There is no you, there is only me. There is no FUCKING you, there is only me. THERE IS NO FUCKING YOU, THERE IS ONLY ME.
only, only, only, only...
only, only, only, only...
