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Who cares if I'm emo,Who cares if I'm not?
Who cares if I'm ugly,
who cares if I'm not?
Who cares if I cry in my dreams,
or slit my wrists?
Who cares if I fall,
because I was hit?
Who cares if I cry tears of blood,
because they came from a broken heart?
Who cares if I plead,
"Please don't break it any more,
not even one tiny part."
Who cares?
I care.
But I know you don't.
So don't pretend you do,
and ******** with my heart,
or ******** with my feelings.
Because,
You know I believe
that the feeling 'love'
is just a word,
and is actually is non-existent.
Its just a fairy-tale,
but its persistent.
It makes you beleieve that its real,
but I learned how not to feel.
I only cry because its a reflex.
What I used to do when I knew
how to feel.
When I actually was foolish enough to think love was real.
Theres a feeing thats very close,
but yet so far.
Its called hate,
but it only scarrs
you.
Now leave me alone,
and walk away.
And close the blinds,
I really don't want to see the light of day.
It blinds my eyes,
and burns my skin.
Because I believe that living life,
is really living hell.
But,
instead of showing this side of me,
when you ask me how I am,
I'll just put up my happy front and smile and say,
"I'm well."
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