For me it's the same. The same, each passing day.
I use a smile, to hide my happinesses denial...

There was a girl.
Who wanted to die...

She sits and hides,
in her room she cries...

This blade I use.
Its called a razor...

In a corner she sits,
singing herself to sleep...

Don't listen to second thoughts,
I can't bear to lose you...

Hello there,
my scalpel...

Drowning in tears,
I need to be sterilized...

Reid Sample,
he was such a nice guy...

O.O;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
(^-----Mister Centipede...

When I smile.
When I laugh...

I didn't die from suicide.
I died from being alone...