DIE

The pain can't seem to die
like the rest of me.
Maybe this is my existence,
agonizing, like its meant to be

Blood gushes out
from scars that won't heal.
Nobody knows how to console me.
Nobody knows how this feels.

Solitude has become a friend.
Love has become the enemy.
It seems to me that these bullets
are now trying to set me free.

So wither away away my friend,
my love, my enemy.
Everything has come to an end,
rotting and dead, like its supposed to be.