The delicate form of my temple are never as fragile nor weak,
The smile that features in my eyes,
do not reveal the misery my soul’s torn from.
I push away the things I’ve wanted,
and cry for the emptiness in my chest.
I become an old soul,
but transform into a newborn persona, who’s only stubborn and foolish.
The words slip away from my lips,
while my thoughts confine themselves in my mind.
By day, I’m content.
By night, I’m lost.