Happiness was never supposed to be mine, 

Only endless turmoil, and that’s fine. 

Learned to live with it long ago, 

For I refuse to put on a show. 

And I am content to be alone, 

For false love is nothing good to hone.

No, company loses all its sense, 

When it’s based in games and pretense. 

I wanted only a heart that matched mine, 

But there is not one in existence, and that’s fine. 

I was never to have love for more than a blink, and that’s fair 

Because I honestly no longer care. 

I’m completely empty, do not hope for hope, 

Just waiting to die, travel down that final slope. 

And I’m good with it … 

I’ve been who I am. 

And that’s better than being dishonest with myself.