Why doesn't anyone understand me?
Even when I explain to them,they think I m crazy.
I guess I belong living as a psycho,
But put me in an asylum, a place much better than home.
My mom doesn't t love me, she can go to hell,
My da thinks I m not his child, by the looks i can tell.
Where is my place in this life?
Is it full of love? Or is it everyday I live in strife?
I don't want to cut, but I can t help it, it relieves me so much,
I love how the blade touches me, I love its touch.
It slows down my suicide, only until my arms are full of scars,
No one understands me,none so close,always so far.
Just call yourself a friend,until I see my death,
I ll always hate this place,Ill hate it with every breath.
My friends look at me and think I m so cold and unknown,
I turn to the blade again, because it seems like the only thing Ive known.
Does no-one want to be part of my life anymore?
My tears are turning to blood my heart turning into a hollow core.
Why doesn't God want to help me?Am I that much of a mistake?
Am I too risky to help?is the risk no ones willing to take?
Why don't they at least try to see from my point of view,
If they did they would see all the hell Ive been through.
I m not burning on the outside,but in the inside I am,
I m locked up inside,being tortured by the damned.
I guess I was always meant to be unknown and alien,
I will stay locked inside,never to be known again.
