I do weird things, maybe to fool myself that I chose the way I am.
I'm not as strong and put together as I thought.
If my music is loud enough it drowns out the screaming in my head
but I can't cut as deep as the pain that runs through my entire being.
The thought that we're forced to fight for an outcome we
can't even control is repeated through my mind.
The thought of living this life kills me
but the thought of dying kills me twice.
This is where the words in my head begin to escape through my pores.
Now, in every way I live my life, it's nothing I was or wanted to be.
So why can't I change them?
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 4:57 PM UTC
I do weird things, maybe to fool myself that I chose the way I am.
I'm not as strong and put together as I thought.
If my music is loud enough it drowns out the screaming in my head
but I can't cut as deep as the pain that runs through my entire being.
The thought that we're forced to fight for an outcome we
can't even control is repeated through my mind.
The thought of living this life kills me
but the thought of dying kills me twice.
This is where the words in my head begin to escape through my pores.
Now, in every way I live my life, it's nothing I was or wanted to be.
So why can't I change them?