Every day I wake up,
I'm, caking on this make-up...

If it's gotta get worse before it gets better,
well, you know I'm due improvement...

Twisted and tortured,
I'm triggered by silence...

Another day of this sorrow,
another day of this pain...

How did we get to this fighting,
how did we get to this part...

What can I say,
this can't be real...

I don't wanna rhyme today,
but I had to write this verse...

I'm open, I'm hoping,
this isn't the real me...

It's hard to ignore all the pain in my chest,
this doubt in my mind, can I ever find rest...

When I hear the sirens,
I pray they're for me...

It seems like every night while I'm lying in bed,
I lift up another prayer that by morning I'm dead...

I want out of this life,
that's why I'm writing this letter...