These things I'm feeling,
They must be symptoms of
Some kind of sickness
Deep inside.

Between the many layers,
Beneath every single cover up,
They've got to be the products
Of everything I tried to hide.

And despite all my best intentions,
There's not a thing I could change
About the way they affect me
And the things they make me do.

Slipping into some kind of
Temporary mindset that may just last
A little longer than intended,
I feel like someone new.

It's moments like these,
When I feel my most infected,
That change the person I've become
And tempt me to let her stay.

But there's so much more
That I'll never understand,
And sometimes these thoughts become so difficult
That all I want to do is run away.