Things that don't kill you make you stronger,
Like when you recover from a cut,
Your skin becomes tougher
And more resistant to cuts. But:
Some things just kill you
Things Kill you deep down inside.
You act all fine and happy,
But internally, pain, you cannot hide.
Some things make it better,
Other things make the pain hurt more.
The bottom of a bottle comforts me,
Whilst loneliness multiplies it by four.
At my time of need, I have no one to turn to,
I'm going into withdrawal from endorphin.
And whilst I have to carry on living,
My will to live now runs ever so thin.
I know that reading this will hurt you,
That it will pain your heart to hear it,
But honey, it's killing me.
I'm dead inside. Empty, I have to admit.
I need a saviour, I need a line.
Do some simple actions that will so help me.
Otherwise it's Hell now, and Hell after death.
I'm dead inside, but without you, I'll die physically.
My past is riddled with pain,
My future is bleak.
These truths will remain true,
As long as it's love I seek…