What If Am Were Was
I'm so caught up in the "what if's" that I have no time for the "what am's" As in "what am I doing with my life".
Just your typical snotty nosed teenager.
I'm so caught up in the "what if's" that I have no time for the "what am's" As in "what am I doing with my life".
I'm a failure At school, At home, Everywhere I go. I'm the dumb, ugly, fucked up friend. The friend everyone eventually replaces. And no one misses when I'm gone..
It's super funny when you make me cry, I love it when you make me feel like shit. Haha. You're so funny. Haha oh you. You gorgeous person. You're right. Thank you for that soul shattering compliment..
Don't trust me when I say: "I'm fine." But please don't do anything when I say: "I need help" Oh oh no. I'm sorry I'm sorry I won't tell But I tell.
Darling it's your birthday. We are throwing you a party. We all brought you these nice gifts. Can you smile. Just once. Please smile.
I don't need help, I don't need therapy, I don't need friends, I don't need a boyfriend, I don't need to stop cutting; I need a reason to live..
If I had to talk to you.
Wearing my brothers jacket and my aunts pants because nicks over so I can't be naked. Also Ashley has all my clothes so that plays into it.
A wise man once said, Screw it. No, the wise man didn't say that. I did. You see I have this wonderful way of brilliantly screwing everything up. And now the poor old wise man, Has no words at all..
Fresh start therapy. The kid will turn out fine. Maybe not now. No now there's medicine involved. Drunk. Drunken steps. Drunken thoughts. Drunken actions. Or is dunk just another excuse.
I am not sinking into the lake, no; I am those droplets that soar upwards after being displaced by whomever is sinking, tumbling out of their rightful homes, confused and scared.
Paint a roof above my head because I said I'll be a home for your broken heart. Paint it in blood so I know how you hurt. Know I'm broken. But know I'll be here. Because I have no where else to go..
Secretly Secretly fingers twitching Fingers scratching Fingers burning Fingers Fingers sharp Sharp nails Scratching. Fingers scratching. Blood. Hurt. Fingers hurt.
Turn out of your heart, Knock out, bleed out, dead to me. Dead but still breathing, With your breath and your one wish: To be dead for real. But the thought again passes, and once more you breath..
The white skin stands out against that one long, blue vain. Just one nice, clean cut and suddenly White skin turns red Slowly life seeps out. Line by line by line. Quickly, you fall.