This rage is killing me inside like a knife tearing through my flesh, 

My blood boils whenever I see anyone of you, and I’m scared of myself, 

I can change from the girl whose insecurities are as vast and deep as the ocean, 

To the girl who’d give anything to get her away,  

But I won’t hate, as much I want to (autant que je te veux),

I am not going to hell because of you.

So I was brought up rough, it’s why I don’t trust anyone,

Everyone, everyone I know, has failed me, so I turn to prayer,

I’m not a girl of virtue, but I’m innocent even though my hatred is a sea,

I’m a girl of many characters, my indecision suicidal,

It’s scary, and dark so I’m grateful when I see the sun rise,

Days when I fail myself can be overcome by the azure sky, 

My eyes, burning bright orange; flames lick the metal surface, I am still. 

I say, “Even a butterfly sometimes wants to be back in a cocoon.”