if only they stopped asking what I don't wanna give,
let me go. Relapse time.
Wanna shy away because you remind me of prospective realities,
and honestly I just wanna dream, alone, far.
I like being that foreign stranger no one knows,
I can wander alone and never being asked who I am or why I live,
because I'm no one, and I live for nothing,
but these answers hurt so I don't wanna talk,
hence if you don't talk my language, I love you.
Alone lies danger, would I survive?
I guess that's why no one ever let me go.
Hence I'm never asking.
Now I bitterly regret my cowardliness,
I shall never live incongruently again,
the sorrow to have to live more is even greater.
Everything has an end, even dreams, even hope, even life.