Longing, nostalgic. Homesick for the place that isn't my home,
Aching, depressed, and feeling alone.
Homesick. Missing something I know that I shouldn't,
Wanting to give up, but knowing I couldn't.
Why am I missing something I should forget?
Homesick for something that left my soul bent.
A pain that runs deep, it needs to be freed
By a razor, a knife… The ache's gone when I bleed.
But a deeper pain is left in its place,
For it's never truly gone. Only replaced.
I know that I shouldn't, but I miss it so much.
I long for the hunger and the razor's sharp touch.
My soul aches for the place I left long ago,
My heart burns at the knowledge I've let these things go.
It's gone though, I know, it's part of my past.
The symptoms are gone but the illness still lasts.
Homesick. I've left the place I've learned to call home,
I've lost my release and my comfort zone.
I gave up my razors, my obsession with vanity,
It left a deep hole… But I'm regaining sanity.