My friends don't care
They leave me here to bleed
I cry when I get home
And bleed myself to sleep

The darkness will sing,
"Honey don't cry,
Cut your wrists, close your eyes
And dream of broken butterflies"

I'm an artist with a masterpiece
My inspiration comes in rushed
So my wrist becomes my canvas
And my razor becomes my brush

My friends all lie
They like to stab me in the back
They influence and pressure me
They don't keep me on track

They do one thing
But say they do another
But when I do something bad
They act like my mother

Always at my side
They try to correct my wrongs
Their voices play in my head
Like a repeated song

They really don't care
"But friendships supposed to last"
But if I have a say at all
I will leave them in the past

They let me bleed out
Watch my wrists turn to rust
And as for my feelings...
They leave them in the dust

I pour my heart out
But they leave me here to cry
What should I expect
They're always leaving me high and dry

Always standing around
Never have my back
Maybe they're missing manners
It's the respect factor they lack

I tell them everything
Who else would I tell
But it always comes back to bite me
And I'm always the one who dwells

Sure put it all on the girl,
Who sits quietly in the corner
She doesn't have enough on her plate
Her life's not even in order

With tears down my cheeks
And my arms folded at my chest
I wonder which one...
Will ***** me over next

They play with my trust
Like it's some sort of test
"I'm fine, I'm just tired"
My mind needs to rest

I dream of a place
Where the woods run deep
And even in the dark
You don't have to creep

There I will find friends
Compassion is what I seek
Where the woods run deep
And the hills run steep

I'm tired of keeping up walls
I guess I'm most of all tired of putting them up and up
After they're torn down and down
But I'm tired of keeping an army inside me
Ready to fire back at any one comment
And it makes me sad that I've been ******* over
And let down so many times
This is what society has made me

Conversing is so much different than ink
Ink is something you can take back
Such as I hate you
Sorry I didn't mean it
Like so
But I think we seem to interpret it differently
When
I love you
I hate you
And I'm sorry come into play

I love my eyes when you look into them...
I love my name when you say it...
I love my face when you hold it...
I love my forehead when you kiss it...
I love my heart when you warm it...
I love my life when you are in it...

My love is like a bed of foam
Where our memories and love come to roam

The leave footprints all behind
Some are good, some not so nice

Through all the lies, and mistruths
It all comes back to you

Each and every mistake
Whether true or fake

Leaves upon my heart
A memory of permanent mark

you should probably
look into someones life
before you barge in

you may not notice it
but when you say something
to a girl she take it directly to the heart
whether its necessary or not
so watch what you say

hell is real
more importantly
hell on earth
believe me
ive seen it
i live there

i live in a world where no one cares anymore

everyone breaks down my walls
and doesnt build back up the pieces
and no one looks inside my walls

if they did
they would see
a suicidal cutter

her parents hate her
everyone lets her bleed
people scar her
she scars herself

if you looked in her bed
and picked up her pillow
you could probably wring out
just about a million buckets of tears
mascara
and blood

if you listened to her pillow
you could probably hear just
about a few years worth
of long
hard
cries
if you listened long enough

you would see a girl
who gets called names
like
ugly
fat
and emo
she pretends like she doesnt care
but it hurts her...
and creates new scars

if you look into her eyes you
can see where all the scars came from
and all the long
cries
all the bad grades
and all the verbal abusings

and if you just look at her
you see a smile
and a coverup story