You hate and deceive yourself, Loathe and perceive yourself,
As helpless and unlovable,
As concrete and untouchable,
You feel you can’t be budged,
In the run you won’t be judged.
How long would you lie?
To yourself and would deny,
How long should you pry,
And convince yourself and cry?
Must you be that sad?
In the convention, than be glad.
Are you looking at yourself?
Feel bad and pity yourself?
You think you shouldn’t be loved?
Shouldn’t be touched, Shouldn’t be moved?
So, start again, my love, in time,
Start again in spell, in crime.
Look at yourself, you filthy bastard,
Move away from your own dastard,
Shrink, speak, grow, and expand,
Love, repeat, regrow and demand.
In the time you spend, in the lower life,
Just niche yourself, subdue the strife.
In the hate, sublimate and then you’ll sprout,
After all, it is the things you convince yourself about.