Why I Write: It Hurts To Be Me

It hurts to be me.

In the night when no one can hear,

Not a cry, not a wail, not a single tear

Shed for what is long forgotten,

forbidden, unspoken

A broken heart the only token

That has been left to my memory

And now it hurts to be me.


It hurts to be me

In the darkness I feel inside

I cannot run nor can I hide.

I'm clawing, and shaking

Trying so hard to keep from breaking

The promise I made from forsaking

What I have left of sanity

And now it hurts to me.


It hurts to be me

In the dead hours I cannot escape

The urges only come after they've pulled the drape

To hide the fading rays,there are so many ways,

I'm going into a daze.

I'm finally losing control--it's all a maze

There is no way to break free.

And now it hurts to be me.


It hurts to be me

A single sun cannot set

without me having written yet.

It gets worse knowing it's wrong, I'll never belong.

Is it a sin to think about going along?

You may live to write but I write to live

Do you not see?

Because it hurts so much to be me.


I don't know if it hurts to be you,

There's so much more others can do.

But I am crippled and lonely,

So it really hurts to be me.



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