The internal conclusion 
of what’s happening inside
is confusion
and I’d be the dying bride
The confusion, 
the names he throws at me
The conclusion,
the fact that is obvious to see.

I’m not me, but still not you,
I’m not free to be, compared to what you do.
I’m not the one, and you cannot choose it
We cannot run, and you will lose it.
The conclusion will be.

The internal emotions,
for the sake of feeling
I despise it, why not put them in the ceiling?

I do wrong, I’m confused,
I’m just held, beaten, and used.

The internal conclusion,
of what’s happening outside,
Is the inner confusion,
which I’m forced to hide.