The End.

You all just make me want to sin.
I have nothing.
I have nothing.
I have nothing.
I keep trying to illustrate that what I have is nothing, because without certain pieces, I'm an incomplete puzzle.
No one knows my life.
No one knows my struggle.
No one knows this mind.
I have the mind of a mad man.
Just waiting to flip a table or throw a chair through a window.
My sorrow turned to pain.
My pain turned to anger.
My anger turned to hate.
Not just for you, but some for me as well.
I am alone.
I am alone.
I don't want to be alone.
They can't see the signs.
The desperate cries for attention.
Save me from myself.
Save me from this hell.
Save me from disappearing.
I have a tale to tell, but they're not hearing it.
They aren't ready for what's in store for them.
I try.
I try.
I try so hard.
Kick and scream and holler.
My voice is just a hollow thing.
I am me.
I am me.
I am me.
But is it even who I want to be.
Sometimes I wish I was her.
Perfect features.
Nothing to cry over, no?
We all have our secrets.
We all have our lives.
We all have our stories.
But I don't know hers.
She comes from a troubled past.
Where there wasn't a shed of light anywhere.
That's why she's silent.
That's why I know.
That's why she can't grow.
Unfinished business makes the heart burn slow.
All of it.
Sucking the life, like a mosquito does blood.
No life, no soul.
I guess this is the end for me, no?