religious trauma
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I love myself
I still think jesus hates me
The forbidden fruit will always taste of blood
Maybe I’ve just been so alive that I've forgotten I have open wounds
I hate myself
I think jesus hates me too
I’ve taken a bite of the forbidden fruit and it tastes like blood
Maybe I’ve just been holding my tongue too long
I’m a whore who turned her back on the church
Jesus of Nazareth they drink of your blood
In fears of what waits after sleep
They flaunt ye about preaching fire and flood
To rip out the life of humanity
I think I always knew I was a little bit messed up in the head,
See with me being so quiet and all as a child
They’d look me in the eye
Once, I played alone in my head,
Not a worry in sight.
That was a distance memory,
A dream I think back on while lying alone in the dark.
What that really me?
That carefree little girl
