I find myself crying, sometimes I don't know why,
Crying to myself...

I really like him
He told he felt the same...

Lying on my bed
Thinking of what went wrong...

I sit, staring at the ceiling,
Just thinking about my life...

I wonder through burnt down towns
Seeing what’s left of the diaster...

Since the day you died,
I have yet to cry...

Looking the mirror
My reflection staring back...

Dreams, broken and shattered
Like the mirror in my room...

I stand in front of my mirror
Knife waiting in hand...

I’ve lost who I am
I’ve lost the real me...

I wish I was dead
That all my loved ones were alive...

What’s the point in being here?
What’s the point in living...