Expose me for all that I am. The man behind the masquerade, I am my own false witness. I'm left to conquer the mountains in my mind, and I am my maker. Life is what's killing me. I hate the fact that I'm just fine. Forever seeking anything to take responsibility. Life is what's killing me. I hate the fact that I'm alive. Forever searching for my scapegoat because I refuse to face reality. At least I can say I tried, to cherish every single day where I woke up and didn't want to die. I'd work my hands down to the bone trying to stay suspended in those specific seconds. But I know I'd just be counting down the minutes until I'm miserable again.