The roses are dying, screaming for light
The violets are crying, done fighting the cold night.
I look at you and promise I'm just fine,
under my shirt I'm bleeding in straight lines.
The razor blade in my pocket is gleaming with pride.
While I'm hiding the fact that I'm dying inside.
Every day I am eaten alive, by insecurities deep inside.
Scars forever decorate my skin, in the outside and deep within
Days go past. Years go by
My feelings still hide, while i die.
I feel I should be locked in chains,
my mind is so past insane.
Should I follow my brain, or my heart?
Should I stay, or should I depart?
Its so very hard to decide...
Should I stop or continue my suicide?
I tell myself not to be afraid...
It's only a little, shiny razor blade.
