Breaking like a promise

You've never been here

Here, where onions was the flavor of midnights

When all souls were asleep, I cried

I've had no idea what am I missing

People will see you--kill you

With their own version of satisfaction;

Get rid of your self worth cause you're worthless after all

And tear you apart like a paper copy from the train station
  

I doubted their ways

Relied on my own

Suffered a bit

But here I don't have to get masked—