He felt the feelings
I cried through my songs,
So he told me to stop.
Stop hiding,  
stop crying,
stop pretending,
And start telling
Everything, from the bottom
to the top.

He listened,
he stayed,
And promised to never go away.
He was indeed a friend
You never ask for but get.

He just shows up one day,
To fix all the wreck,
To heal all your wounds,
To give you the best hugs,
And to keep your heart warm and true.

I saw,
the brightest smiles
Turn dark,
Grow completely numb.

When I think about his eyes,
all that pops out,
is the dreadful look
he would carry around.

Oh his beautiful eyes,
blue, with little specks of white,
The way they would wander,
From side to side.
Trying hard not to stare,
Or lock their gaze
On anything else
then the cold ground .

Because they knew,
what they had hidden
Could be easily seen,
They knew someone would notice
the sadness they had within.

Why do we ask ourself
''Do we believe in love? ''
When the better question is
"Does love believe in us? "...

None was the word
that had me breaking down,
Tears trying to leave my eyes.
One simple question
had me turn to color white,
It had me falling to the floor,
The action ending with a simple
Thud.

How could this question
Be back to haunt me again,
It replayed over and over in my head
Torturing my brain.

It was a simple question
Not even directed to me,
It was rhetorical, but even so
It made me think.

"How many people know who you really are? "
The question had me tremble
Because my answer was
"None..."

People are poison,
She said and cried
As red liquid
Went down her arm.

People are monsters,
She screamed out loud
As her mind went
Completely numb.

People are trash,
She whispered sad
Because all she lived for
Was forgotten now.

Mark my words
Like you mark calendar,
With a bright red pen,
Because you'll be haunted by them
Like they are the date of your death.

If I killed myself tonight,
Would you mind?
Would you even blink your eyes
If you found me dead on the ground?
Would you be disturbed by the way
The blood would be pouring from my open veins?
Would you call me selfish
And hysterically yell my name?
Would you cry the way a mother would,
Or would you cry like my lover should?

So I ask myself sometimes
As I'm lying in the dark,
Would you do any of this things
If I was to take my own life.