I died inside, I would cry so hysterically as if it would bring him back to life.
I needed him, he had always been there.
He will never hold me again.
He will never come home with flowers for me.
He will never smile.
He’s dead, I’m alone.
I love you, someday we will see each other again.

Open me up look inside. Look at my soul, look on the outside see my skin,
look at the scars I have and you ask where I got them,
I lie and say I fell.
How many times can I use that excuse before you realize what I’m doing?
It’s been 2 years since I started this addiction, I get a high feeling, a release in a way.
I feel so good inside but I feel guilty at the same time, I want to stop please help me.
I don’t know how to tell you what I’m doing.
I don’t want you to be disappointed of me but I know you are already.

I’m the mistake, the failure, the lost cause.
I’m the adopted kid that keeps getting rejected I’m not really yours, you make me feel that way.
It takes a million sorries and I love you to make me believe that you really want me still.
Have you ever wanted me?
I love you don’t you see that?
I’m killing myself trying to make you happy, take your pills now before you say something you will regret, you already said you hated me

She stands there letting the water go down her body.
She closes her eyes, listening to the water coming out of the shower head.
She hopes the water will wash away the day.
She cries, she lies and says her eyes are red from soap getting in her eyes.

It’s quiet outside this morning.
Fog fills the air; I’m walking down the sidewalk.
The trees are a beautiful color, green, brown, and red leaves fill the street.
The wind is blowing and for now everything is calm. But the calmness won’t last it never does.
I don’t see anyone, I’m glad that way I don’t have to smile or talk to anyone.
My mind is cluttered full of thoughts; I don’t know what to think or say.

The knife is calling my name, the razor in the bathroom is screaming at me.
I look down at my arm and see the scars, I pull down my sleeves to cover all the memories the scars leave.
I try to get up and live, I remember the first time I cut I was 13.
I don’t want to live anymore, Goodbye.

I'm broken, yes.
I’m getting worse, the days seem longer and I look forward to the time where I can lay my head down and sleep.
Sometimes I can’t sleep though, it all started 5 years ago.

You’re not a kid anymore, your all grown up.
I’m only 15 though, but you act like I’m 21.
I drink to hide the pain.
I cut myself to release the pain, it’s an addiction now.
A few years ago I had life planned, but now it’s all blurry and I just struggle to get out of bed.
I just want everything to stop, Breathe. Just breathe.
How do I look at people? I let people down.
None of this matters now, I never mattered.
I still want to believe in a future but I’m stuck in this nightmare.