In this fragile state, I sit and contemplate why my life withers so slowly- why can’t I just die? Everyday I dwell in these thoughts, they drain all the life I’ve got. Yeah… of all I’ve got. I feel this downward spiral- my artistic revival, and this endless recital of, “Someone, please help!”
“Are you prepared to be alone? Bones exposed to the sun, you won’t have anyone. Are you afraid of the silence you crave?”
Without the hollow and the emptiness… I don’t feel like myself. I’ve fallen in love with beating myself down, when I really just need some fucking help.
Well, I met got and hit the pavement. I was dead before I hit the ground. In this fragile state, I sit and contemplate why my life withers so slowly- why can’t I just die. Everyday I dwell in these thoughts, when with this rotting end?
Rot. There is no fucking end to this rot. Tell me I can be saved… This world’s my fucking… yeah... this world’s my fucking enemy, rot. Despite my fucking enemy, I’ll rot. Rot.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
