There's no surgery that could fix the pain inside.

It really hurts to be me.

Pressure starts to build in my head. Blood begins to pump faster. Breathing becomes a memory.

If I told you I loved you, would you laugh? If I told you I was going to kill myself, would you smile?

Depression is like a hot iron, if touched it leaves its mark on you forever.

Beauty lies on the horizon, I see it idling there; the dark, violet, storm clouds rumble and spark... My happily ever after lies within the storm's deceptive yet breathtaking appearance.

It started as a slap in the face.
Then it turned into a punch in the stomach
Then it turned into a cut
Then it turned into a bullet in the heart

I've never felt so alone.

The pain is too much. Please tell me how to make it go away.

Do you hear my screams
Shrouded by this break
I have become someone else
Nothing but a fake...