I now know that i dont want help
these problems cannot be resolved...

This isn't a phase
a phase is something that comes and goes...

I love the way you wear your hair
the way you dot your i...

Blood trails appear
across swollen flesh...

You're the nicotine to my cigarette
the cradle to which i rock...

And i know that i love you
my heart pounds...

Bottled up
a closed mine...

I sit alone in a dimly lit room
listening to the whispers of the past...

The way she walks
the way she talks...

Why does she feel so worthless,
yet everyone seems to care...

The blade of sins,
is pushed within...

Say your final words.
The world stands still...