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Step on broken glass and I self-destruct

I don’t recognize myself and I erase my emotions

If someone created the world, give me a book of complaints here

I walk without pain, because there is still not enough glass

Step on broken glass and I self-destruct

I don’t recognize myself and I erase my emotions

If someone created the world, give me a book of complaints here

I walk without pain, because there is still not enough glass

I don’t understand what’s happening to me, I feel absolutely nothing, neither anger nor joy, I don’t care about everything around me, I can’t bring myself to get out of bed and do anything

I feel like I'm dead but alive at the same time

I'm rooted to my bed and there's no need for me to get up

I don't believe in anything except my own poems

and now I'm turning into what I've been condemning all my life

a collection of vile dirt that lay on a clean sheet

Am I being patient or am I being kind?where is that fine line?

if you didn’t find her, the scum will give you a new scar

and now four friends are the walls of my room

if you get bored, here are the glass sheets

I don’t recognize myself, it’s like that Dani is no longer there and I don’t want anything at all

Step on broken glass and I self-destruct

I don’t recognize myself and I erase my emotions

If someone created the world, give me a book of complaints here

I walk without pain, because there is still not enough glass

Step on broken glass and I self-destruct

I don’t recognize myself and I erase my emotions

If someone created the world, give me a book of complaints here

I walk without pain, because there is still not enough glass

Night.I sat down on the windowsill and looked out the window at the lantern.

The light bulb in him burned out, and I will burn out too

There is only a body - a shell, and there is nothing inside

Well, I destroyed myself, it seems like a long time ago

I'm used to walking on glass, because there's no other way for me

I stupidly spit at the ceiling, spreading like a slug

I feel neither pain nor joy at all

There is not a bit of emotion, no morality, I have become nothing

Step on broken glass and I self-destruct

I don’t recognize myself and I erase my emotions

If someone created the world, give me a book of complaints here

I walk without pain, because there is still not enough glass

Step on broken glass and I self-destruct

I don’t recognize myself and I erase my emotions

If someone created the world, give me a book of complaints here

I walk without pain, because there is still not enough glass