I wrote a novel, only I can read
Deep down in my personal library
A hidden quiet but loud room
Only I have access to this doom
My heart the paper I bled on it
Blood my ink, help me speak
It's loud and clear I'm a pain addict

I breathe better with a pen in my hand
Sounds disturbing of course I'm sad
It feels right when I write on the sand
A tour in the darkness I hear voices
Write or die, face down I'm on my knees
My heart certainly bears my mind malice
Somebody help me, I'm a pain addict