Maybe This Is Me

Blood Filled Lungs

I'll use my very last breath to scream to the top of my lungs.

It means so much more, so listen to my words unsung.

I've been to nowhere, and I've seen nothing at all.

I feel that no one cares at times that I sink or fall.

A lot of times I feel that I am nothing.

My lips stay sealed, but in my mind my words are spoken.

I feel afraid that I'm low, but I've reached my highest.

I'm being put down, and I feel like a slave to pious.

I want to run away.

I need to hide from all dark shadows;

To stop the days

And slowly rock in my cradle.

I'll crawl my way to hell and take my rightful throne.

I'll drown my dread.

This is where I belong.

My life's been stolen from me.

The bitter loneliness is my song.

I hate myself for who I am.

This is why hell is a place called home.