When I fly, when I catch fire, no one will stop me. No one will take me back to where I was born.
My past keeps trying to drag me back down. I am finally escaping hell and I refuse to go back, although the visions, the voices, and the ghosts follow me.
After all these years it's ingrained in my soul. How can I survive this haunting? I don't know, but if I give up, they win.
It's hard having such an old, wise soul. So much knowledge. So many ghosts. You don't fit in. But they say you're a great person with a pretty face, so you're not really an outcast, right? Wrong.
It's agonizing for someone who despises both loneliness and popularity and yet longs for both things at once.
I am of this world, but I want to fly away. But I can't sprout wings. I am slowly losing hope.
Help me learn to fly.