viewtopic.php?f=24&t=135495
Blended tortures of the body seem to be medicine to myself,
I descend to god, The streams of blood mark the End of my health..
My veins? I end them as well..there just cut strings and loose ends,
If I wanted to, I wouldn't cut to die, I'd just grab a noose then..
I can't take back the actions you've committed that are Ill-bred..
The words and metaphors of pain that you've written are Still said..
I would do anything for this B*itch back,
Moving on? That's be like getting this itch scratched..
Take the veins I've cut and stitch that..
If someone gets mad, Better be quick lad..
Because here, in my town, in my life, people get hurt,
And I steer into a depression, the Deeper it burns..