i dont hate the world i just wish i wasnt in it
im so far apart from it and not like the earth
or the inhabitants in it
im cold and soulless dark and gloomy
flowers bloom every spring
i dont bloom i deteriorate every spring
my heart feels heavy with all of Pandoras deadly
secrets pouring out of its box
into me burning and blistering my skin
so much pain im in not on the surface but within.
No im not that type of sick im sick in the way of
sick in the head
no one cares if your that type of sick.Its one easily
One shot of heroine will help your relax.
an antidepressant will fix those bad chemicals
within a year.
One night with a sexy prostitue will be worth your while
or you can just snap out of it.
But not me im not ever changing like those flowers
blooming in the spring
I am a forever wilting rose only im like the phrase guns
i can pull the trigger,hold the knife,pop the pills.
i can take a life before i die and before they know
me as nothing theyll know me as the person who had
the last laugh