The memories are consumed like the opening of a wound, unless trying to start over.
I do not want to be The battles always choose
Because inside I realize that I'm just confused.
I will paint on the walls, my anger my destiny what I am, because I am the guilty and never fight again
And that's how it ends. I do not know what it's worth fighting Or why I have to scream and say what I do not mean
I do not know how I got this way
I know that is not correct, but that is something