I feel sick, dead, sad, alone. I'm sure these emotions all have shown. Hopeless, depressed, unwanted, ignored. I know I have nothing to f***ing live for. I'm ending my life. I want to be done. I'm sick of living. I get my gun. I'm getting eager. I feel the shivers. I c**k the gun back. I pull the trigger.
It makes me sick, it makes me die (just a little more inside) this is the last time you make me cry. I'm sick of your bull s***, I'm sick of your lies. I'm sick of the fights, I'm sick of the sighs. I trie to be there for you, you pushed me away. I can't understand why, you are being this way. This is the last time, you make me stay. I can't go on, I can't live this way. I'm done with this, I'm done with you. I just want you to know, I hate you too. I'm done wiht your bull s***, I'm done with your lies. I'm done loving the one, who made me cry.
The wounds will heal, and the pain will subside.
And the scars will go away, that you tried so hard to hide.
But the memories will never fade, and the proof will always show.
The lines upon my wrist, tell all you need to know.