The DNA,the blood that flows through my veins
The blade,the sharp tip that cause self conflicted pains
The skin,the flesh that opens wide
The pain,the aches thats store deep down inside
The wounds,the cuts that trys to heal
The scars,the scabs that have now been sealed
The stares,the glares that look upon you
The years,the times that flew
The thoughts,the memories that is stuck inside your mind
The questions,the answer that I can never find
The right,the wrong is your own doing and not the others
The sister,the dad who's doesn't chooses hes own flesh and blood choosing the mother
The words,the hate that is thrown at me
The morning,the day that you will last see
Your own flesh and blood didn't die without trying
But didn't die without crying
