My life is a suicide ballad...

I'm a little black rose in a suicidal field...

The blade touches my skin with the care of a lover...
And I fall into pain's embrace...

My heart might be made of glass
But that doesn't give you the right to break
Hopefully you cut yourself in its broken pieces
Hopefully you'll notice that my smile is fake

I gave you my life, my heart and my soul...
And what did I get?
Some broken pieces and a blistering cold...
How can I forget?

Love is bittersweet...

Mutilation is the pain you need to create to erase the pain that is craving your heart...
This pain might be different, but it is still the same...

Everyone is weird to someone in this crazy world...

Nothing but death itself is worth living for...

My life is a war between suicide and martyrdom...