The conspiracy never ends.
And my wrists miss the sting of the blade.
Maybe I'm not completely insane,
But I'm sick and ******* tired of everyone's games.
I'm so ******* dead and being drained of my spirit.
There's no salvation and the misery stays incoherent.
I have a death wish and I don't even fear it.
I'm done with everyone's ignorance.
Stop making me your punching bag because not even I want to hear it.
Maybe life isn't so bad.
I guess it can feel like a conspiracy but is it always that bad?
There's hope to get out and live a better life.
Just try to breathe peace and keep your wrists away from the knife.
Life doesn't seem so bad when you can learn to laugh.
Maybe you shouldn't dwell on the past.
But make time to reminisce on any joy cast.
But when things are getting low, don't wallow in your sorrow.
And if you're lucky enough to be happy, just think about the good things that life can bring.
You deconstructed my bones and now all that's left is a sorry excuse of a sack of a person.
Desecration never ends.
There's no hope to mend.
Life feels pretend.
Because all I'm left with is your petty excuse of a hand.
What's left in this vessel?
I'm no longer a shell.
Everything is gone.
And now I can only dwell.
There is nothing to life.
And nothing but my precious little soul to hold dear.
But how is this life?
When there's nothing but fear.
What's going on?
I don't understand.
Why does everyone make these plans?
I'm always the one with one short hand.
And I'll always hate this life you all planned.
Life seems ominous.
Too many problems.
Why are you people so counter productive?
I don't understand how everyone loves it.
So what's the point of making this life?
It only leads the weak or problem ridden to the knife.