It's getting harder to think the right things when every 
now and then the facade turns and shows its ugly teeth.
It's moments like these I can see the whole scheme: We're 
just counting losses by knowing no measurement to them,
All combined in a faked glory pose of “doing the right 
thing”.
The apple hopefully falls far from the tree and now it 
landed. So just roll over and give me space to rest
Cause I'm tired of burning bridges carelessly.
Criticising, overreacting, forgetting names and finding a 
weakness in every beautiful thing that comes my way.
These are the best parts of me. This is what I know best.
So don't tell the corpses underneath my bed when I'm gone 
and I won't be missing the feeling
That the times we share are only based on reacting to an 
oh so unjust outside-world. 
Because I received a call from grace today and its 
message was simple: “The world owes you nothing”.