Just take me away from this awful place.
It makes me want to die to see that look on
I can't stand my existence... it bothers me
But as easy as it seems, it's hard to let
I sat on the floor and slit my wrist,
But all you do is stand there, and bare your
I'm all alone inside, and more alone on the
My anger swells and my hate and sadness
My wrist stings. It throbs. It hurts as it
And that little bit of death in my pain
reveals my only needs.
This act I put on is so obviously played.
The reasons just add up the longer I've
I'm lost in my world, and nothing makes
Why do they do this? The question's mass
Why do they say life is so great when it
hasn't proven this to me?
And why do I take this? Should I just leave
Sometimes I wish I was never, at all,
And other times I just wish life's screen