I'm tired of these ****** socks
I still don't have clean clothes
How many deep cuts will it take
Til love inside me grows
I can't keep track of anything
Not even my own head
She thinks about me often
Mostly wishing I were dead
I fight her
She fights back
Maybe we really are the same
I thought I'd be the winner
I'm sick of losing my own game
Perhaps I'm her and she is me
I'm really in control
Using my power to devise a plan
For my body to **** my soul
I'm not sure which thoughts scarier
Or if I'm even scared
Death came knocking timidly
If only she had dared