Feeling so empty, yet so alive.
This is a peculiar yet not so mundane.
I want to burn my emotions.
I want to live hollow and isolated.
Rid my life of the evidence that I once cared.
I just want to peel away the propaganda that is everyday.
Yet life would be so dull without these half-truths and little white lies.
Wear them around your neck like a chain of your own demise.
Skulls and crossbones, stars and studs.
Nothing matters to you, all that matters to me is a fucking gun.
I want to blow my head off.
I want to drown in bits of brain and blood.
Soak the floor with my memories.
Only to have them washed away, re-carpeted and sold to the highest bidder.
Soap and bleach can only do so much, yet nothing can cure this pain inside.
A bullet might numb the memories, but even that façade can’t fix everything.
I just want to scream, I want to bleed.
I want to end it all, fucking end it all.
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
WHEN WILL IT END!?
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
I’ve messed up again…
