Plagued by the images in my head.
**** them all I’d rather be dead.
Their conniving game turned me into someone with little acceptance.
Now I’m left waiting for my death bed.
I’m losing respect for almost everyone I’ve encountered.
Slowly turning into a monster.
Why did they take it this far?
Just let me tear open my scars.
Because there’s no way in hell they’ll stop tearing me apart.