Recursive

To call it sight is false
That second face in shards
Splintered skin shines through now
From the poorly made mirror
And they call it 'self-reflection'

It's a simple thing you see, it's natural
So why do I feel at all?
Because I'm 30 years old and still helpless in my bed
Trying, still falling short

Reckless, purposeless, inward
Recursive

I seek approval, I have to make sure they see me
I constantly undervalue everything that makes me, me

Return to the room

I remember my previous shape, purposeless
I choke on my lack of taste, my inability
And I scream into the sky
Why am I dulled, hollow?

I call it sight (false)
That second face in shards
Splintered skin shines through

I know of no-one else complicit while still repentant
Still constantly undervalue everything
I can't love me

What the fuck happened these last two days?
Reckless, purposeless

Look away, I feel like I'm barely here
Believe me, I'll never be anywhere