Marketing
*Fake*
I woke up this morning
and picked up my knife
and a voice said to me
“Forget about life,
Forget about praying,
forget about pain
forget about asking
for help once again.
You’re a phantom, a demon,
simply a dream,
and you are nothing
like what you seem.
A silencing echo
that never did sound
and the thing never lost
that never was found.
So take up that knife,
you know you must fall;
but it won’t hurt cause you
never existed at all.”
I cut through fake skin;
spill the fake blood,
cry with fake eyes
a fake, tearless flood.
A slit on the ankle
a slash on the wrist;
I’m just one more demon
that no one will miss...
********************
I cut to bleed, not to die.
I want to hurt, when I cry.
When I cry, I do not feel.
But when I cut, it’s all so real.
It’s a way to cope, with my life.
It helps me deal, with all my strife.
Not just arms, my legs as well.
I cut all over, to release my hell.
I can’t scream, I can’t shout.
I cut myself, to let pain out.
No-one knows me, they just stare.
No-one gets it, I don’t care.
ANTONIJA,SRETAN ROÐENDAN!!Volim te
Post je objavljen 15.05.2006. u 10:53 sati.