I can apologize, but you don't need to forgive.

I can beg and plead and you could just turn away.

Hey, no hard feelings, well – yes, lots of feelings,

but I really don't blame you for any of them.

I've acted so wrong, and cruel – so something.

Something – it's a word I've used a lot lately.

Don't know how to describe anything anymore.

Life is so hard, so…something. Everything

is just so something, so full of hate and pain.

Read these tearful words, falling down the page

and wonder if I'm lying to you, if I'm deceiving.

Sorry you read my should-have-been private thoughts,

it wasn't suppose to happen this way, it wasn't.

I was mad, so mad. I was depressed, so…something.

But we both learnt something about each other, didn't we?

We learnt that we both wear masks, you're just better

at keeping yours hidden and sealed away, aren't you?

My mask is falling apart slowly and there's no one there

to catch it and put in back, piece by piece. No one there

to put that masquerade back on my sad, sad face.

I got to get myself out of this jail, get myself out of this lie.

Got to stop telling myself that it's okay to be so - conceded,

so something. So mad, so angry, so full of pain. I got to stop.

When I dipped those scissor blades in my wrist, I don't know

what I was feeling. Trying to tell myself I shouldn't do it again.

Trying to tell myself there are other ways to feel things.

But I'm trying to figure out if it's better to feel pain instead

of feeling nothing at all, instead of feeling empty.

And I know I should stop centering on myself, but it's hard to do.

And I know I should look over at you and wonder who you

really are. Who you really are behind that mask of lies,

just like the one I wear on my sad, sad face.

So I know you're probably mad, and I know you're hurt.

'Cause I hate when people tell me they understand, so

I won't. It hurts when someone who you think is your

friend slaps you in your face and screams in your face.

You probably hear my words, over and over again

in your head, filled with angry thoughts and bloody words.

But all I'm asking is for your forgiveness; grant me it, please.

And I know we're both feeling mad, feeling – something.

I just want to beg and plead at your knees for your help,

'cause all I need from you is someone to talk to.