Scratches On My Gravestone

| Undesired Disphoria |

until my presenting identity dies within,
　i will not know that i have actually lived

nevertheless, the fatal stigma remains,
　reproached by hatred, your sadistic stimuli

designated to be what others see,
　i swallow the lies welling up in my eyes

entitlement is the definition of this,
　the painful prejudice ruling us on top

shameless: seems to be your favourite word,
　describing me in one beautiful breath

integrity will let me decide what will be,
　the right thing to say, the proper thing to do

resurrection of ancient rebellion,
　always growing colder, never getting older

engage myself in the conformity of society...
　stop looking at yourself in the mirror, boi

deniability of the person looking back at me,
　staring silently with the face of paranoia