You want to be the hero;
you want to swoop in and
save me from myself.
You think you’re a saint,
loving someone some with
so many scars on their skin;
so many scars on their heart.
You want to be the savior,
saving the damned from
their own mind.
You want someone to look
at you and go on about
how you’re so brave for
ever loving someone like me;
someone so tragically broken;
someone so fücked up.
To you, I’m nothing
more than a project.
Something for you to fix,
and say: look what I did!
To that, I must say this:
fück you, I’m going to be
my own hero.
(DS)
