the passing days seem to be tests on how I /handle pressure/
Used to say I'm me, fuck normal. Now I regret my /lack of effort/
Feel alone in crowds, and all I want is to /understand them better/
Sit inside /writin pages/ in a /life of isolation/
Reflect on my life, and feel like I'm /fighting hatred/
Look at the man in the mirror and have nightmares about the /nights that I face him/

Well spoken, but can't hold my speech at a /family dinner/
look at my peers, and feel like I'm closer to /understanding hitler/

I want to be normal, just ~connect~, I ~reflect~, maybe I /demand too much/
Not sure if its of myself, or them, but I guess no ones /understands me --huh/

I feel like I can't speak the things I can in these /written statements/
and I feel lost in what seems to be the most basic social /situations/

There's never been very much in the world that I really /required/
and within that bubble is all that I really /desired/
lead to a lack of life skills that I've never actually /acquired/

Don't want to fit in, but I don't want to be different guess I got a lot of /life to learn/
And I I don't see how I'll figure it out just by /writing words/