The Story of Who I Used to Be

Is there such a thing as too much loss
Did I love life at some point, at least hold it dearer?
Last night another threshold was crossed
Couldn't keep my eyes open while I spat at the mirror

Still most history is unwritten
In the story of who I used to be
In the story of who I used to be

Yet again my words are just made from old injuries
Glued together by pain, held up by a nightmare
Worn down by the friction of history
The thinnest of words on even thinner paper

My smiles, so few of them are real,
Synthetic textiles, meant to conceal
My smiles, so few of them are real,
Synthetic textiles, meant to conceal

The overwhelming indifference of nature
It doesn't bother to keep us alive or even to kill us
Don't call it a mother, a spirit, a gift or a teacher
It doesn't love, mourn, forgive you or trust

It's smiles, so few of them are real,
Synthetic textiles, meant to conceal
It's smiles, so few of them are real,
Synthetic textiles, meant to conceal