What's the point of even being here if no one, including myself has the belief that i can do anything right. The belief that I can make it. They are right, I can't. I am just a waste of flesh. I can't do this anymore.

The love of Lucifer is only to his decendants not to his voodoo dolls.

Be happy

Die young

Cut your wrist for now and save the tears for my funeral.
I'm sick of cring for my own death.

I just watched my only family taken away to be murdered, im already in Hell

"I love the everlasting effects
Of sharpened blades on wrists and necks."

When the sun goes down tonight it will take my soul with it.

I close my eyes
and hold my breath
cause tonight
i wish for death

And i wish i culd say that my death was getting closer, but with each passing day that i reach out for it, i find it pushing itself further and further away...

If i can make it to my funeral,
I'll smile to the crowd
And say "wipe your eyes,
Cos I'm finally alive"

[a little band called Halifax]