Take a blank guess from the title.
I thought I was your precious child.
Something you were told that could never be.
And yet you point out my flaws at the end of your fingers,
And your 'help' seems more like a fetish.
Obviously I'm not good enough,
Obviously you and everyone else doesn't give a shit.
I never wanted this heart of stone,
I wanted to be the kind and loving person,
That God meant for me to be,
But I don't want to be that person if he's the one that everyone steps on,
The one everyone decides should be the center of their jokes.
So right now as my heart begins to freeze,
And you keep going on about how I'm a disgrace physically,
I'll stop all this pain on the side of the bed,
By shoving a knife through my vein.
Maybe if you knew how cold I've become,
How I see your thinking of me,
Maybe you would mend this,
Maybe you'd stop your fetish for your little boy.
But I know the truth,
You'll just cuss me out for being heartbroken,
And my soul,
And my wrists will just keep bleeding,
Because I'll never be good enough for your standards,
No matter how much pride over me you say you have.
In those acts of pointing your fingers,
You show how you really feel,
And you show why I am the coldest heart.