As time moves on, I watch the color fade. The life in my face dies with the choices that I make. It seems I'll never get this right, so just fake it for tonight. The same old "I'll be alright." The same fake "I said I'm fine." How can I have an ounce of confidence? How can I act like I'm proud? When I do the same things to myself, always cutting myself down. I've given life my everything, but I still fell short. And if tomorrow isn't coming my way, I won't lose sleep. I am running and hiding from the thoughts of dying, that always seem to follow me at night. 'Cause if you live in the moment and not a second past, you can lie to yourself about the things you'll never ask. A thousand pages set to flame. As I fall short, I'm the only one to blame. See I'm starving for something I can't comprehend. I can't hear anything over the noise of what's unsaid. The sinking feeling inside my chest comes easier than a night of rest. I'm losing color, fucking sick to my stomach. The cold sweat is making itself at home again. The poster child example of a lack of self control. Destroying what's mine, just because it's beautiful.