Unveiled: You Don't Know Me

Dead

The cold-fingered entrails of all my woes

Are reaching up from the freshly turned grave soil

Of the smoky abyss of my darker side.

These tears of pain that I cry so often

Sometimes turn to burning acid inside my soul.

I am a broken, beaten, dying, but living ghost of a girl.

Perhaps it's time to let this side of me out,

Because it builds up inside, swelling in my chest,

Until I can be alone and scream bloody murder.

Do you remember the girl who loved the world?

Well, it turned on her, it tore her apart, it murdered her,

And now, though begging to be alive again

She is dead.