She's the angel that I wish to be
But no angel is comparable to a demon like me
I wish I was pure and kind
And cry I do as time continues to unwind
Never could I be pure
There has been too much blood and pain in the past that has been endured
So watch as I take one last painful breath
Hoping, yearning for death
But no, instead my imperfections stare into my eyes
Filling my head with horrid lies
Why must I be cursed for life?
Why won't my flesh part at the touch of a knife?
I want to be good, I really do
But it's too late so many secrets left to be revealed as the horrid truth
I want to be done
Or at least be gone
Because I am blessed with the gift of an angel
That is like being locked up with the tiger under the classification of bengal
I'm not meant to be so blessed
It has an opposite effect, instead of enduring happiness, I'm depressed

Quoting? No! Not at all, I write my own stuff, hmm... but now that i think of it, this does sound like Bree and I's relationship except for the sadness.