My life is pointless.
No one cares.
No one is there.
My family all pressure me.
They need perfection.
Well I can't be perfect.
Do you see these scars.
You made me.
You know but you ignore.
The blood pours from me.
I smile and then cry.
My friends ask why I do it.
The shrink screams attention.
Well I don't do it for this reason.
I do it because it eases the pain.
This internal pain exchange for external.
Yet I still put on my mask everyday.
I wish I could be me.
You all think my life is perfect.
I am a prep I can't be unhappy.
You don't think I have problems.
But your wrong.
My life is a problem.
Your stereotyping is too.
I just wish you really knew.
You wouldn't say those things.
Those rumors.
Those lies.
Just because I don't fell.
Well I do.
And you made me do this.
It was you.
