I heard the horror story of a girl with a terrible life story, abuse, death, suicide. And I think to myself, I thought I had issues. Then I remember a fact I used to believe, each person has their own threshold, each can only take so much.
They say "tell us if you feel like suicide is your option" I say I'm trying not to die; I'm only looking for a distraction that works enough to drown out the pain of living your lie. So far pain is all I have found.
I look in my shattered mirror, my knuckles bleeding profusely the girl staring back, the one I fear, cries my tears, bleeds my blood, who have I become but the monster she created.
For inflicting pain is my great treasure and the memory of this you will forever treasure.
I'm better off hiding with the monsters inside my mind.
Do you, empty soul, see the shadows within the night? They bear the scars of life's cruelty given light I am amongst their armada's disastrous wake nurturing the pain that makes my heart ache.
Luscious night, welcome me to your bosom once more, so I shall be welcomed into the grove in which my soul was born.
When no one is home I blare the angriest music I have and pretend I'm somewhere else
I am so tired of making people frown more than smile. That is why I walk alone. That is why I'm afraid to ask.
"I hear voices there screaming in my head they say that I don't deserve to live they say i should be dead".
I want to hold your hand...but I'd rather slit your wrist.
My nerves are shot, my back is breaking, I can't believe this ground is shaking where's the love, where's the joy, don't leave me here to be destroyed
Ever wonder why as soon as you're born you just begin to die?.
The demon broke from its cage and is now haunting my mind again
They say they're goanna fix my brain alleviate my suffering and my pain but by the time they fix my head mentally I'll be dead.
Death is my last Resort. It is the one thing that will take away my misery.
. Gun to head or knife to throat
Blade to wrist or fall from high
You pick one: how do I die?
Pain is inevitable... Suffering alternative... I can smell your fear.
Look into my eyes and what do you see...Fear? Poverty? a soul of Blasphemy?.
Each day theirs a different letter carved into her arm eventually spelling ou n
I can't get back, I'm still trapped in this moment, the light is too bright I'm trying to fight, is it over? The chains string me up. The darkness still holds me...The darkness still holds me...The darkness still drives me tight.