Diving Without a Parachute Or Oxygen Tank

Don't place in front of me a mirror; within three short moments smashed to pieces by the reflections Please, do me the favor of not talking at me if the terror of perfection is of value Why, why can't I for a brief, short second dive without a parachute or an oxygen tank into the twenty leagues and fathoms inside myself No one, no one inform me, inform me that I'm the different someone I'd tear out my own eyes if I had the means to, I'm already blind all the elements hinder; none whisper except the howling wind Could be another depression that's caught me in its glove bringing me down from this form of paradise into a volcano heart Sleeping awake; if that counts as daydreaming then criticize since my eyes have been closed more than open Metamorphosis ~ another definition for physical change in this case, it's described to relate the state of my apathy Don't torture me; don't tantalize me the past I'm nostalgic for but don't want to relive Waiting for my life to begin ~ the training days I'm stuck in leave me out, take me out Reality crushes me everytime we meet but compared to the bruises and wounds I've taken from the world of my far-fetch beliefs What else could tear me down there's nothing left