-××-
I wish you would stop asking me.
"Are you okay?"
You already know what I'm going to say.
"I'm fine."
When will you see
That it's all a lie
I feel like I've died
Now your walking away
Now that your gone, my emotions have turned grey
This is what happens every day
Like a broken recorder
Stuck on replay.
I have what you like to call a disorder
I call it art
You call it self harm
I mean it's just a arm
When you draw on your arm with a pen
What's that called then?
I'm starting to believe my own lies
There blending in with the truth
so This is what people call youth?
Razors, and knifes,
This is what some people live with there whole lives..
