Jason's Journal- March 30th
What am I doing anymore
I have my ways to shut the door
This can't be the only thing I've ever known
But for some reason I can't stop being alone
They want to love me but the world is full of hate
And I just can't understand
if they let me die then why even try
They want me back and I can't understand why
I've done horrible things so why don't they hate me yet
(the rest of the world does)
It is now just me, no you
In a cold, bare, empty room
And what am I still dying for
I thought that I quit fighting this war
But I look around me and I realise I own nothing
Nothing but dust, just dust
Just dust and all this greasy gold
And this is where I'll grow old
I feel around me and the crimson crime scenes
There's no victim left to see
Because I destroyed the emotional part long ago
I never thought I'd stoop so low
but there's a sea of bodies behind me and I kinda regret
but not for real
I don't think I can feel
And all I own is this dust and gold,
With its own greasy sheen
And all I see are kings and theives
On the floors there's all this mold
And If I'm not numb than it's freezing cold
Kings and theives
That gold and the blood causing its sheen
All the dust and dirt and mold
I feel so cold
And I don't know which one I am
But I want someone to rescue me
(Or maybe I wanna die alone, who knows)