Monolouge Of An Screwed Up Teen.

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Nothing is gone.
Life is repetitive, can I take my numbing aphrodisiac, I can't help but feel my head is going to crack, I lack emotion but I am filled with sadness all my life I keep racking up a reputation of badness, I want my pain all at once to get it over with. Why do you insist on stretching it out over the course of my life? Making me feel pain and strife, give me the knife. Just once I can feel because pain is just like adrenaline and it gives me such a sudden rush I want more, whether or not I'm scene or not or feeling like I'm gonna be passed out and green or not or whether my dreams will make me scream and tie knots out of my veins, my brain Is finally taking its toll, I'm insane and while I lay the knife beside my bed I will keep the pain inside my head and write it on the paper that draws me a scraper of death itself, I know this is depressing but I just want to go into a deep resting but it feels as if your guns are against my head, I might as well be dead, cocked and loaded, pull the trigger and there is the lead.