May 24, 2014
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I'm scrubbing, scrubbing really hard
To find something I don't have,
The talent that must lie within.
There's blood oozing out of my skin,
Maybe there are scratches on my worthless soul.
Maybe if I break myself far enough
We could all find something worth fighting for.

I'm cutting, cutting on these hands
These pairs which create nothing worth treasuring.

I'm a defected piece in this factory called earth
I look alright but it's not enough.
Maybe if I shatter into a million pieces
We could finally detect my wretched defect.

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