To call it sight is false That second face in shards Splintered skin shines through now From the poorly made mirror And they call it 'self-reflection' It's a simple thing you see, it's natural So why do I feel at all? Because I'm 30 years old and still helpless in my bed Trying, still falling short Reckless, purposeless, inward Recursive I seek approval, I have to make sure they see me I constantly undervalue everything that makes me, me Return to the room I remember my previous shape, purposeless I choke on my lack of taste, my inability And I scream into the sky Why am I dulled, hollow? I call it sight (false) That second face in shards Splintered skin shines through I know of no-one else complicit while still repentant Still constantly undervalue everything I can't love me What the fuck happened these last two days? Reckless, purposeless Look away, I feel like I'm barely here Believe me, I'll never be anywhere