Who are you to say
I can't do shit without obeying you?
Tell me why
I'm so naiive and dumb and small and worthless.
I know it's true,
Seventeen years have passed
And not a single drop of wisdom
Has passed through my lips
Save that of your own influence.
My tortured, supressed, medieval mind
Made with your very own personal design
And what am I but a tiny speck;
A brand of failure you strive to hide
Until I am but evanescent.
Be careful to push me as far as you please
Because the feeling of breaking is very near.
A slight tear in your carefully woven seams
Ready to burst
And free me from your twisted dreams.
Under your guidance,
I've mastered this feeling
So soon you will regret.
Regret everything you ever did to spite me
And soon you will see
Just how amazing I can be
Alone with myself and my thoughts and my dreams.
I hope you soon die
Knowing I am a better person
Than you could ever hope to be.
