I know that you'd be scared,
If you saw what I have prepared

Razor, sharp and ready
Pills, and there are plenty

I don't want anyone to see,
An extremely gruesome scene

So I wont cut out my heart
Like I want to
and leave it with a note
Addressed to you

Just know my heart is yours
It has been all this time
know that my death wasn't so planned
But rather thought of, and divine

I love everything about you
Please believe me, cause it's true
I miss every word you said,
I replay it in my head

And this was all a lie
Goodbye, my love
Goodbye.

Can we live without death?
Can we love without hate?
Can we want without need?
I've fallen once again.

Do we ever really live enough to appreciate that we can never truly grasp one without the other?
That a concept has no meaning without an opposing force.
If hate is what's inside us.
And hate it what defines us.
Then we will use our hate to drive us.
And let death not deprive us.
Do we want this or do we need this?
You can always rinse the surface but the stain will remain.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
While others flatline,
I live life on the front line.
People starve, and I eat attention.
I crave the spotlight,
You don't have a place to sleep at night.
Complain because I don't have a iPhone,
You cry because you have no home.
I say, "It's unlucky for them."
"Not my ******' problem."
I'm a punk kid, got no care.
Living in a world where all that matters is hair.
Music, ***, drugs, and anarchy.
**** the government,
you think it's rough?
I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S TOUGH.
When your dad beats you,
When you aren't good enough,
You're only outlet is having ***,
With every guy who has no reference complex.
I'LL ******* TELL YOU WHAT'S ROUGH.
Getting knocked up at way too young,
Living off the government you once hated so much.
Welfare, WIC, unemployment.
No husband, not back from deployment.
Think I'm wrong?
Write a song.
Punk rock band,
needed a hand,
So many ways to get ******* paid
To sit on your ***
And dwell in the life you made.

I dont feel your words
Not like a slap, or a sting

Not unless its ******* me
In the brain

Reminding me what you lost
When you were scared

I tried to explain
That I care, that I cared

Only now I regret it
I wish to take it back

I miss the smell of your skin
The taste of your lips

But not your slap
Or the harsh grab of my wrist

Your hands in my face
Lips in the wrong place

I miss the way your skin smells
Like adrenaline and old Hollister cologne

But not the sweat of exasperation
From giving me elaborate explanation

"I didn't mean to hit you so hard.."
But I haven't been here to care

"Did I give you that scar?"
Back then you didn't care

"Who the **** have you told?"
They haven't been here to care

"I'll still love you when you're old."
We both know you won't be here to care.