I bite the hand that feeds me,

So that maybe it’ll let me starve.

A twisted wish, a selfish plea,

To push away, to break apart.

I see the care, I feel the love,

Yet something pulls me from their touch.

It’s not enough, it’s never enough—

I want to be left cold, untouched.

I bite the hand that feeds me,

To free myself from all they give.

A weight too heavy, a light too bright—

I can’t accept the will to live.

I want the silence, want the void,

No comfort in their kind embrace.

I push them back, avoid their eyes—

To lose myself, to lose the race.

I bite the hand that feeds me,

So that maybe it’ll let me go.

I am selfish in this twisted way,

For my own needs, I hurt them so.