It’s cool…
to be faithful, to be religious
to have something that fills you with joy
to confidently say that all the world’s worst is nothing to fret
to always know that something better is on its way
But not all of us have that
Not just because of lack of faith
But truly because it’s not there now
(Not that it ever was there)
I’m not satisfied with my life
I’m not happy with my faith (or lack thereof)
I’m not pleased with my friends
I’m not content with my family
I hate being alone, not just being lonely,
But always being so, never being at home,
I always feel unwelcome, no matter where I go
But I put up with it how I know how to
So where comes your authority?
So what gives you the right to criticize?
So why do you assume everyone’s on the same level as you?
So how can you possibly expect anything else?
I keep it inside, locked in a cage.
I rage, and boil, and explode.
I let these wrought iron bars get to me.
I grind my teeth to dust upon them.
That’s pain enough for me.
That’s enough criticism.
I try to be faithful.
But people like you make it.
really fucking hard.
I’m low enough already
Without you throwing me
back down the flight I just crawled up.
