They all pretend to love me
and i pretend to smile...
I pretend to be happy...
I pretend to be normal...
I pretend to be so perfect...
But really I'm tired of all this pretending
I'm tired of all the lies...
I'm tired of trying to hide my obsession with the knife...
I'm tired of all the pain...
I'm tired of all the hurt...
But most of all in tired of ignoring all the sadness that's trapped deep with in my heart.
But wait, there may be a way to solve all my problems... its a little black object... locked in a box... shove deep in the corner... of the hallway closet
*i.e. if you don't get the end, the black object is a gun*
