Life is dead, and so are you.
So why not end it with a 22.

Midnight scars, Carpet stains.
Seem to make the pain go away.

Darkened nights, left behind.
To play with razor blades and blood red wrists.

Looking at my wrist...
Always reminds me of past bliss...

Unto the world brightend skies...
Darkended nights left behind...
To find a new...
And let things mend...
So as no one will find the bitter end...
Of hells burning, lonely flame...

The safe way isn't eneogh,
To get out of this stuff.

Outrageous, Outgoing, Always unknowing.