I've been walking this life for 17 years and I'm still breathing in depression.
I hold my own nightmare and judging my own pride.
And losing my pride, my dignity is what I'm afraid the most.
The longer I breathe, the more I realize how I've been jeopardizing myself.
It's too painful to bear, to cope with the truth that I've got nothing to be proud of.
Despite what people had been mumbling, they know nothing.
The surface is not what it seems under the surface.
I'm dying in my own plan.

If you could understand.
How I crave the thing that I will never get.