A/n: I don't really know why I wrote this... or where it came from, which scared me a little. I waited awhile to post this one, so it's a slightly older one.
You act like it's so worthwhile.
You act like it's so easy.
What's so great about losing yourself to that razor blade?
(what's so great about losing yourself to those words?)
Tell me how it feels to feel the pain and anger
All the crimson anger stains…
reminding you of when.
All the darkness bleeding out…
ridding you of doubt.
Clue me in to why.
Let me see inside.
Does it help you breathe?
Does it take your breath away?
Does it really kill the pain?
Or does it just let it breed?
(wish I could, but it's not something that can be explained.)
(you know it only when you know it… until then…)
You're on your own, lost in an uncaring world.
It's so cold.
Share the warmth of belief in something.
Even if it slowly kills inside…
it's better then dying for nothing
("I couldn't find something to live for…
so I found something to die for.")
Did you really?
Is it so worthwhile?
Is it that easy…
letting yourself slip away?
I want to believe in something.