I know I’m unwanted,
Yet I still try
To find the one
Whom would die
For me and make me feel
The feeling of the need for life.
I continue this hopeless search
And – oh to God – I beg this curse
To be lifted from this damaged heart,
To cast away this everlasting feeling
(Which makes me hate myself with hidden meaning.)
Upon my psyche forms a scar
In addition to the ones before,
As enmity is filled within my core.
The only way to exorcise this wretched Satan
Is to create much ventilation.
Ventilation by any means necessary:
By blade, by pen,
By the melodies-and-screams soaking in my skin.
Some call the path I choose to be weary,
But with every loss there is a gain;
An exception is made for me
Because all I ever feel is pain,
And – oh – I cannot bear this dreadful agony.
For the one whom will never leave my side
Is nowhere to be found.
I often wonder if the girl for me
Is just a dream,
Just a fantasy.