Turn up the music, close the door, grab a blade.
Just one more time, you say?
We've sat there and we've prayed.
We’ve prayed to God, but no, he’s not there.
He’s not real, if he was, why would you be in pain?
The scars on our skin hold stories.
Stories untold, stories so deep.
Stories no one knows.
We’ve dug ourselves into a hole;  A hole we can’t leave.
Our chest tightens and tears fall.
The metal digging beneath into our wrists.
It’s our only plea for help, but nobody listens.
The struggles that have taken home in our souls.
“You’re not alone” is a small tell-tale lie.
Don’t come to me with remorse, when the one in dark is knocking on my door.
The only last words I've come to know?
“I’m sorry I don’t fit in your ****** up little world.”