A cut on the wrist slice, and i miss
the blood trickles down
i havent smiled since i frowned
this world does not satisfy me
im fake all around
when i laugh, i really cry
when i speak, i really lie
im scared of this life, that i do not deserve
i play chicken with death but chicken out and swerve
the cutes get deeper as the hatrid grows
being tortured is all i know
tortured by life, and teased by death
im just as sorry as the rest
the blood seeps through every thread
i dont know why im not already dead
2006-10-20
07:30:02
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5 answers
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asked by
Lil
2
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Other - Arts & Humanities