• In the night,
    I hear them,
    Talking about,
    The coldest,
    Story ever told,
    And I tell them,
    To shut up,
    Who honestly cares?
    If your life messed up,
    Nobodies got your back,
    When you lean on the fan,
    Release the sorrow,
    But hold on to the pain,
    So I speak words,
    That your mind can’t fathom,
    Each thought a bullet,
    The pen is the trigger,
    Causes me to pull it,
    So I write,
    Because no one cares,
    Friends aren’t there,
    Life isn’t real,
    Fear isn’t felt,
    So where is the light?
    The darkness,
    Is to bright,
    No hope,
    Shining thought,
    Causes this life to be blue,
    The unknown is gray,
    So white clouds,
    Black out my day,
    Till all I see is blue,
    Then my I eyes turn red,
    All my dreams are dead,
    So grab the sorrow,
    Then release the pain,
    Let it build inside,
    So you can feel the vibe,
    Live it live,
    As I breathe,
    They cry,
    Telling me the coldest story ever told,
    Isn’t inside my soul.
    People whoever cared,
    No longer there,
    Death and fear,
    Are very near,
    But aren’t real,
    To me,
    In this mind state,
    Vision blurred,
    By the sight,
    Of something beautiful,
    This is death itself,
    But so appealing,
    Only human,
    It seems to be,
    Death is me,
    And I am it,
    So my people,
    Quit on me,
    Happiness can’t exists,
    When you’re as twisted,
    As this,
    So I asked them,
    Isn’t this the coldest story ever told?
    Then they asked,
    How can I be so heartless?
    So I say,
    I can’t be heartless,
    I can feel it breaking,
    Shattering into millions of pieces,
    Each piece being a new story to be told,
    All about,
    This little boy,
    Who bleeds at night,
    Bleeds his soul,
    Though a pen,
    On to countless sheets,
    For his release,
    Until he finds,
    That inner peace,
    This boy,
    Will remain,
    Heartless.