Why I Write: It Hurts To Be Me
It hurts to be me.
In the night when no one can hear,
Not a cry, not a wail, not a single tear
Shed for what is long forgotten,
forbidden, unspoken
A broken heart the only token
That has been left to my memory
And now it hurts to be me.
It hurts to be me
In the darkness I feel inside
I cannot run nor can I hide.
I'm clawing, and shaking
Trying so hard to keep from breaking
The promise I made from forsaking
What I have left of sanity
And now it hurts to me.
It hurts to be me
In the dead hours I cannot escape
The urges only come after they've pulled the drape
To hide the fading rays,there are so many ways,
I'm going into a daze.
I'm finally losing control--it's all a maze
There is no way to break free.
And now it hurts to be me.
It hurts to be me
A single sun cannot set
without me having written yet.
It gets worse knowing it's wrong, I'll never belong.
Is it a sin to think about going along?
You may live to write but I write to live
Do you not see?
Because it hurts so much to be me.
I don't know if it hurts to be you,
There's so much more others can do.
But I am crippled and lonely,
So it really hurts to be me.