No matter what they tell me, I never will be clean again. I just have to lie to you, and tell you that there is no emotion in anything I have given away. As I smile, it hurts you so. I took just one small shard of my disgrace, and cut the rest to Hell. You think I'm criminal; delectable. When will you notice that I am nothing?
I wasn't worth the truth, not even worth a cliche. I could describe how it feels to die alone...I've died so many times. It's been Russian Roulette ever since I can recall. There must come at least one spin of the barrel that doesn't end in another gaping wound in my soul. These marks can't define me. Somebody, please hear me and come quick. I'm sick.
My father taught me to give up and run away. I wish I could drain out his ounce of blood in me, but I'd still see his face in reflection, and quickly curse every mirror I come in contact with. Please help... I've inherited this from a stranger I can't help but miss. I've ruined myself, just trying to prove that I'm somebody I could never be.
I would trade away all the words in my heart that have been left unspoken, just dwelling in me until I feel them burn and swell. I'd offer them to you in explanation, for absolution. I feel myself flowing away in all direction. It's a resolution of happiness; things have been dark for too long. Don't change for you...don't change a thing for me.
Just promise me you won't change, because I think it's perfect the way it is.
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