A twisted mind, a twisted grin.
Wrists cut bleeding, but a joy within.
The fearless mask that I once wore,
has stitched to me, tainted is my core.
Because I know the pain of loss,
love slipping through my clumsy fingers
And I have cried to the morning,
the pinch of sadness still lingers.
But madness has bandaged my heart,
kept it from bursting
into a thousand pieces,
my will is rusting
like metal, I am
now a puppet to this craft,
the one that keeps me alive
dare you call me daft
and I shall teach you otherwise,
share a bit of dark, and rip out your throat true.
Don't dare call me strange
for I was one of you.
