The damn pressure to ultimately adhere to all of these things
To stand a step above, to be exactly who we were born to be
And a little bit more perhaps
Times are trying to tear us inexplicably apart and there just seems to be nothing we can ever do
You’re falling and I’m crying, it’s been a paltry existence at best
Please God try and suggest a way from this haphazard mess we do find ourselves swimming all too agonisingly within
I will sin ’til I’m winning if needs be, deceit has got to feel far better than this – my pain is all-consuming and soon, if this page fails to write itself proper, I’ll assume myself pretty much dead
The harder they do push the more thirsty you become, vying for touches of blood
I’m nothing like I dreamed of being, how many of us can really say that we are
Please pardon my saddened exterior, it’s utterly against my every single known will and the only reason I write is to keep these intricate demons at bay
Pray For Me because I’m right by the edge, a natural born cliche to rather horrendous approval

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