My mental state, their laws
I ask, they say:
Fake 'em
Take 'em
Make 'em
Break 'em
Leave 'em
Then I wonder
Is that all they do?
Please stop throwing knives
I wish they knew how it hurts my back
Not even knowing who threw them
Makes the pain ten times worse
They never tell me anything
They keep me desperate, wondering
Please stab daggers in my face
I have it for a reason
I may not be an angel
But please don't treat me like the devil
I still have a conscience
Please don't make me look like I don't
They've got the guns
I've only got my guts
I'm sorry I have to say this
But I've got feelings too
People say feeling isn't wrong
But why do they make it so?
And I'm sorry for feeling
I won't do it again
God, this sounds selfish
Guess that's what I am when I'm sad
For those who care;
I'll be better
I swear
One day, just not today
When the rain cleans the wounds away
-i.t
