selfmutilation
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She sits on the edge of her bed.Inside, she feels so dead.She has mastered the art of hiding.Yet she is now tired of trying.She is thinking maybe it should end.Not the relationship, not the feelings,
I paint the roses
I paint the roses red
I dare not to stop
Or waste a drop
So I let the blood be spread
hold your breath,
it's not over yet,
so you try to get away
you try so hard to destroy the monster,
when you relize,
that demon,
is you...
as the clone creeps closer,
Not everything works
Like it used to when
We were young
Disease fills us
Disorders rot our minds and
We’re never cured
Anxiety creeps up
Fire that you ignore but
Can’t put out
Thoughts race
time goes by
minutes drag
she wonders why
darker and darker
her mind goes
what is the outcome?
nobody knows
all she sees
behind hazel eyes
Incompetent minds
with unyielding thoughts
she keeps to herself
and guards her soul
they dont understand
they only observe
she stays in pain
but keeps her control
Her condition is that she is a walking contradiction, for she is a soul burning with hot fire and coals born into the coldest winter ever.
She’s living in hell amongst demons yet some say she looks heavenly.
Understand, this is not right.Listen, hear me warn you.This is not a fair fight.You will fail, win, lose.
