Born out of lust, grown up from despair, I've been brought up in a world were...I live by my rules that's what keeps me alive. My lust for survival is my only drive.
I don't look apart from you or them, but inside I'm different right from the stem.
To explain what I am would take some trust, but then that would be breaking a rule, and my rules are a must.
To trust no one is the important key, therefore anything hurtful can not be done to me. To live be myself, and let no one in, that is when my war begins.
Tossing and turning my soul within me, burning starving for something I can not give. Something I must not have if I am to live.
A connection with someone, someone true, someone that would look at me and say "I love you." No matter what I am, or could do, they would stay right beside and fight with me through.
Fight and defend, through the entire war, bandage me, kiss me, When I am sore.
Clean my wounds, stitch up my scares, and give me a love from heaven afar. I stay wake, lying in bed. Crying, tearing. Holding my head.
Wishing that I were not so different, to be given a chance to prove my existence. The first thing I think of when I get out of bed, "o please dear god, why aren't I dead."
No living human could understand me, so why should I live, I'm a waist of humanity. I have no life, only destruction. Why is it that I cant be something so simple…perfection?