Clueless
Pen. Paper.
Love. Hate.
No one knows.
They give and take.
My corrupted mind.
Twisted between there hands.
It's there fault
I have become a person they can't stand.
They want me to die.
And so do i.
I am no longer alive.
They've murdered the real me inside.
And they don't know
That i'm already dead.
They wish for me to allow them
To get inside my head.
But they can't.
And if they only knew
All the things i would do.
Those people don't have a freakin' clue.
Copyright © Taylor Jenkins | Year Posted 2011
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