I’m paranoid that I’m being watched every second of everyday,
I’m paranoid that people can hear every word I say,
I’m paranoid that when someone likes me,
it’s fake,
and I’m paranoid that they’re all gonna leave one day.
I’m paranoid that I’m gonna die in my sleep.
I’m paranoid that everyone wants me dead.
I question every little thing if it’s reality,
or if it’s a lie that got out of hand.
I'm paranoid to talk to people in fear of rejection,
I’m paranoid to fall in love.
I might seem strong on the outside,
but my mind is just jumbled up lyrics that don’t make a song,
and thoughts that just keep echoing on and on,
life is a nightmare,
death is a dream,
because I’m scared things are not what they seem.
I want to open up my brain,
see what’s inside,
see if I really am out of mind.
What makes me tick,
what made my thoughts sick,
am I fixable,
or just a test of time,
will I get worse,
will I get better,
will my thoughts be forever jumbled together.
I want to know what makes us think what we do,
what controls our feelings,
our minds,
and holds them correctly like glue.
What fell out of place,
what happened in that empty space,
that our minds now fill with jumbled thoughts and different perceptions.
I want to fix me,
I want to know what I really am,
without these horrible thoughts haunting me,
taunting me,
without all the things that make me paranoid.

Oh ****
Oh ****
Oh ****
This is the deepest wound that I've cut
My skin split apart and the blood's dripping out
And everything's starting to turn dark

I'm scared.

But I guess that's what razor blades do
The imprint you,
They scar you of every battle that has formed you
Broken you.
They burn remembrance into your blood
And it just pools up and it floods
Exiting through the gashes you've made
Actions reflected from sorrow and self hate
The cuts were just a twisted form of fate
And they are and they will be
Just an escape from the world for a second.

But only a second.

Because once the blood flow ends,
The flow of thoughts take it's place.
Even while its bleeding your mind is there thinking.
The words come from events
The inspiration comes from the cuts
The blood
The bandages.

And then there's the pain.

But I guess that's what razor blades do
The imprint you,
They scar you of every battle that has formed you
So you can never ignore them
The memories are scared into your skin.
But scars must come from healed wounds
And healed wounds must come from self injury
And self injury must come from self hatred
And self hatred can end your life.

I hate myself.

Just please don't tell me I will never be able to kiss you again.
Never be able to hold you again
Never be able to have *** with you again
Never be able to have a more than a friend connection with you again.
I don't know how I will be able to manage.
I am just telling you this now, don't be surprised if one day I just randomly grab your face and kiss it.
I don't even care if you get mad.
Because I know it will all be worth it.
It will be worth the pain.
I want to make you realize that you mean everything to me.
You have affected me in so many ways.
You are literally,
literally,
a part of me now.
I do so many things now that I didn't before I met you.
You liked them, so I thought I could try to like them too.
I did things for you that you don't even know that I did.
But I love you.
I love you.
You are a part of me now.
You are my better half.
My stronger half.
And you're not even my half.
You're not even mine.

26 letters make words
And words make sentences
And sentences make phrases
And phrases make paragraphs
And paragraphs make stories
And if you're lucky,
Stories turn into songs.

Songs state emotions
Emotions cause feelings
But feelings cause emotions
It's an endless repeating pattern of thoughts.
Thoughts make us human
But so does the brain
The heart
Pumping the life to our veins.
But why do we live
Why do we thrive
Why do we wonder about the time that goes by
Time is aging
Aging is growing
But growing means we eventually all die.
Why do we die
But why do we live
Why can't we control the pain that we give
To ourselves
To our lives
It all makes us cry
Why do we cry
Why do we tear
Why do we force ourselves to listen to things we don't want to hear
Why go through torture
Why go through sorrow
When death could easily be the best thing about tomorrow.