I had to convince myself,
Convincing, for a thousand years.
"I'm not discarded, I'm loved",
I told myself.
The walls seemed to laugh,
"You're useless",
They yelled back.
Useless.
I needed a shelter,
Shelter of love,
The shelter of strength.
Just a shelter.
Nothing held me back,
But myself.
They say I'm sensitive,
But, what do they know?
The blood that runs in my veins,
They are made of snow.
The blood that runs within me,
It's diseased.
No one can fix them,
No one can withstand them,
No one can fix them,
Not even me.
