artsheekfreak

The crimson red drains from my body through small slashes and abrasions i have created, i am a master of my own destruction and architect if you will. I hurt and ache from blood loss and no one knows, what I've been doing, why I've been hurting I've said it's the smoking the way it turns against my lungs like a snakebite. Constantly hoping for a way to tell them, tell them what has happened but they couldn't handle the truth. Ever since the miscarriage i have been vulnerable but i can't stand this on my own any longer. I listen to the wise words of Rebecca St. James and cry myself to sleep closing my eyes hoping my second personality a new pe

I look down and cry All the lies I've been told or have told Are getting really really old Killing me deep inside This is why I start to cry Staring deep into my scars I feel like I'm from mars A new kind of skin A new kind of pain All my feelings have been invain Kill me fast kill me slow I don't care as long as I go I can't hurt anyone anymore Or watch you all hurt And not be able to do anything about life Or anything So yes it's invain But it is all I have To hold onto I've got to have More to live More to stay or all of this will go away from this world forever more can finally rest in peace as I lay in pieces.