I hate it when people tell me
That I don't have a reason to be sad,
and that there's no possible explanation
of why i can't be happy.
telling me that i can't be sad
because someone else may
have it worse,
is just like saying I can't be happy,
because someone else may have it better.
no one has a clue about
what goes on in my head on a
No one has a clue about how i feel when
i slice my skin open while watching
the blood pour out of me, like it's nothing.
Like i'm nothing.
no one has a clue about the
whispers in my ears when i'm trying
no one has a clue, because they don't care to know,
yet i don't care to tell.
This is for those that think that
scarring their skin is
more beautiful than
the world we live in.
— The End —