I spend my nights dead face down on my floor,
but the drugs aren't really working anymore.
The nights are mostly just despressed
from staring at my open chest.
I'm bleeding and I'm heartless but I'm yours.
I'd rather chew on broken glass
And i'm scratching down every blurry scene
on the mattress where you used to sleep and dream.
and wasting time on words I know you didn't mean.
then keep on living in the past I think I'm going to do me in this time
Dear everybody, or whoevers listening.
This is the end of my so called life
This is all overrated, waiting on my roof again
I haven't seen the sun in about a week
and I'm keeping all sharp objects out of reach. it's a cross between cheap beer and blood
I finally know the taste of love
with an aftertaste of dry sarcastic speech. And so I guess it's safe to say
that we both knew that I'd end up this way
With a brain that's clueless and unsure
But I guess that's fine I rarely use them anyway
Eyes that hard that ever work (Dear Everybody, This is the end of my so called life.
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