I'm fresh out of emotions; I'm dying inside
Like something crawled through by pores, through my veins, and it died
I'm weak and I'm withering; I'm dead and I'm cold
I'm falling apart, rusting, growing mold
I'm sick and pathetic and bitter and detached
There's an itch inside of me that can never be scratched
I'm broken and hurting-- Far beyond repair
I'm dying inside
*But I really don't care