The rush of pain,
the sting of steel.
the reason i do this,
is so i can feel.
I do it to lock away myself,
and throw away the key.
all because i don't want,
you to see the person i see.
my life is in the gutter,
my soul has gone to hell.
so all that stands before you,
is only a mindless shell.
the blood stained razor,
the tear-filler sea.
these are just little reminders,
that this person really isn't me.
I've seen more than most,
and i regret things in my past.
but like my childhood,
my life has gone so fast.
an innocent child,
no voices in his head.
that really isn't me,
that person is dead.
all that stands here,
is a troubled teen.
who has been through more,
than most have even seen.
so as I stand here,
and i count to three.
i beg the lord,
my soul to be free.
