You'Re the Pretender, Not Me

Ticking clock seems to progress too slow All the while my disorders take control of everything I see Everyone watches, examines my actions, as if they know When told otherwise, they blame and point fingers at me. It hurts, when they are the closest people I have around It hurts, when they dont listen to my pleas It hurts, when told I'm faking, forcing me further down And God it hurts, when those very people who stay, leave. My arm has taken alot of physical damage My legs have recieved alot of the same Scars are not hidden from my bodily image Adding more scars could ruin my name. Go ahead and tell me I'm faking again Sit there on your throne up high, judging all you see And as my soul crumbles to ash in the end, I want you to watch it, and realize you're the pretender, not me