She's hanging by a thread
"why does life seem pointless to me?"
She's out of tears to shed
why can't she be who she is, and who she wants to be?
She's losing all her self-control
she's kept her cool for so long
maybe it's now leading her, to her own death hole
where she should belong.
People chew her then spit her out
making her feel worthless,
making her always in doubt.
She's disappointed with the world, disappointed in herself
she is after all, just a story in that dusty shelf
and at night she wonders, "Can I ever find my true self?"
