When I look back on it all I laugh to my self.
Was it really my fault that everything went to hell.
I hate the thought of the only thing I could use to feel was a touch of cold steel.
The crimson color wasn't intoxicating and wonderful.
It was hideous.
I am hideous, unwanted, unloved.
To think all of this was because I wanted to feel something other than pain for a day.
I smile for that one day and I was so happy.
Life let go of me and let me breathe for a time.
Then it all came crashing in again.
"I know how you feel..." They all muttered in a sympathetic drone.
You don't know how I feel. Your problems consist of your parents not letting you party.
Not being able to go to the movies with friends.
You have no real problems. You think that just by saying I understand how you feel that all my problems dissolve.
You never knew a single thing about me.
Not my favorite color.
My Favorite food.
My Last name.
How I felt.
You never even knew how I dealt with it all and still managed to help others out.
I always helped others no matter how I felt, because no one is there for me and i don't others to be able to say the same.
Because we all deserve a chance. But some of us are made to take the burden and if we decide to quit holding it.
You see our name in the newspapers.
I gave up so long ago. I tried anything to feel again.
But nothing worked. Now here I am on the edge of my rope.
Tell me it's okay, even if it's a lie. Tell me i mean something, that i am worth the trouble.
Th4t 1m g0nn4 b3 f1n3.
T311 M3 h0W mY Fun3r4l w4S.