"Starring at the ceiling as it spins around me
Swirls of blue and white
Foreboding, in a sense of the word,
As I can feel my heart pounding in my fingertips
Ironic, as it seems I am numb to the blood spilt
As it leaves a stain upon porcelain skin.
A scar outside to match the mark inside
Jagged and crudely drawn;
And so my body becomes a canvas for my pain
A testimony of how I will leave this Earth
Painted, with a fake Clown's smile
As perfect as they want me to be.
Though Death is sweeter than the grief I withstand
And I'll pay for my sins with a higher price,
I thought you, of all people, should know
That you have brought me to my end;
Broken the girl who never lived."