As the tears run down my cheeks
and curve onto my lips,
Im running and running until,
I thought I was fine, then I slipped.
A baby bird tries hard to fly
and never does it stop trying.
Yet I find myself constantly giving up,
I haven't lived, yet I am dying.
I bleed before I get cut,
cry before theres pain,
give up on myself before I try,
fall to the ground, before I can fly.