In all honesty, I’m done, in every single way,
Firstly I’m done with this… retard, I know its not nice to say.
There is no other way and you expect me to live this way.
Don’t dare try to act a friend, I play pretend too, lies never end.
Fuck your rules, fuck your procedures, I’m too fucked to try.
Care is the least of my worries,
still seeking a feasible suicide, I’m alive and I don’t know why.
I’m in love with a ghost, been dead, since April made me a fool.
Ever since Swansea, you have lost me, ever since the loss and the cruelty.
Instead of any kind of future, all I see is my past and all I done wrong.
Guard up, hope gone, thoughts become habitual, feelings become scars.
Why live when you have nothing to give, why give if you have no reason to live.
All this talent I supposedly have, yet I feel so unheard, so invalid, so pointless.
Where do I go from here? What do I do with this?
Everything seems to hurt, every day seems to feel worse.
Thought. Trigger. Pain. Distraction. Medication. Sleep.
The cycle continues, The Pattern repeats.