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My wrists, slowly trickle with a sticky flow of crimson red, beautiful and dark, so afraid, sitting here wondering what it will take to live with out a mask, thinking if just for one moment i wasn't so ******** afraid. my body covered with scars speaks of its own accord. sitting on my bed, all the screams, flying through my mind. searching for my dreams, just trying to ignore the screams. falling as i am lost, a broken heart, thats what it costs. chances thats what it takes. chances are what they give, and give when will they stop? everyone always stops, either they stop or they just leave, leave or just stop.
fear is what controls me leads me into darkness, anger is what owns me, never letting go.
releaving the pain is what i know best, and how i do it is what i do best, the blood trickles down my arms and slowly drips to the floor. acting as if everything is ok, putting on a mask and hiding what is really me, make believe is what i do.