Slice my life away, This is the price i'll have to pay

Place the barrel to my head, now im wishing i was dead...

Blood Rushing From My Wrist, Hoping For Eternal Bliss...

Slit My Wrist Hope To Die, Sing Me One Last Lullaby

Drowning in a pool of tears
Choking on salt
Pretty pictures painted on walls
Stained a crimson red

Trying to numb the pain
Alcohol and drugs
The cuts on my wrists
Bleeding
Crying
Too much pain...

Im not like them, but i can pretend...

~KURT COBAIN

Do you see the scar on my arm?
The one in the shape of a broken heart?
The one with our names writen in red?
Make it deep...
Make it last...
My heart crys on my arm and the crimson tears slowly hit the ground
I am slowly fading away...

Writing is an ART, and words are like COLORS. my paper is a giant COLORING BOOK as i fill it with the emotions i am FEELING and the lonliness i fear. I hate the way you leave me by myself, I just sit there and CRY....