• User Image
    Trace my scars with a silver pin
    Hold my breath, and shove it in
    Pulsate, bleed in perfect rhythm
    Wrap my wounds in pure, white linen

    I feel pain, but it feels good
    It won't kill me, I wish it would
    I sit here bored, thinking of a way
    To make this my final, last day

    They question me, they ask what's wrong
    They want to hear me sing my songs
    They want to call my mom and dad
    Because I always feel so sad

    I just want them to leave me be
    There's nothing that is wrong with me
    I just want something else to do
    Instead of being just like you

    They still think that I'll end my life
    If someone leaves around a knife
    They always try their best to spy
    And see if they can make me cry

    It seems they think that I'm not real
    I'm just a doll, so I can't feel
    And that's the thing that makes me mad
    The fact that they make me feel bad

    Make my scars with a rusted pin
    Held my breath, felt it cut in
    Trickle, sting in perfect streams
    But I told them it was just a dream

    They let me go, so I went home
    I sat down and wrote this poem
    I took some pills and went to bed
    Tomorrow they will find me dead.