Worse than teenage poetry

As young as I was, I felt older back then. More disciplined. Stronger and certain, but I was scared to death of eternity. I was saved by grace and destroyed by naivete and I lied to myself and said it was for the best. Now I've become content in this life that I lead where I drink too much and don't believe in much of anything, and I lie to myself and say it's for the best. I won't be around here for too very long. But for now, the martyr has arrived with a desperate plea for sympathy. You want it all.

I will ever smell of turpentine because of what you painted on my face.