It hurts to even think.
It stings to even smile.
You'll never see my face again so live your little while.
How fun is it to suffer?
How fun is it to give?
How easy it is to kill yourself when you feel you've never lived.
Had I thinked about my thoughts what I am thinking now,
the thoughts I thought would never be "who am I?" and "how?"
I think I know and feel I've seen,
the things I've done, the me I've been.
I know that none of this is good,
I've never felt the way I should.
If I held what holds me here,
I'd break it's wings and be it's fear.
With nothing less than life to start,
it stole my wings.....and broke my heart.
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