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Description
You screams are becoming too much, my music isn't loud enough. My books aren't descriptive enough. My drawing isn't a good enough distraction, nor is my painting. But all I need is just a little piano or my clarinet to drown you out. Too bad it would wake the neighbors if I tried to play, too bad it's so late in the night. Too bad the water won't get hot enough to burn me more than I already am, I'm glad you can't see my burns. I'm glad you can't find my blades. I'm so glad that you honestly don't even care anymore. I'm glad you want me out. I want out.
Paint covers my arms and hands. Figments of the led cover my hands under the paint. The paint on my face covers my tears. The water from the shower covers the bigger tears. Burns my cuts. Burns my skin even worse. Good.
A cry for attention? I stopped wanting your attention at the age of 12. Now all I want is to get away from both of you, and your screams. I don't care anymore. I have gotten to the point that nothing can stop the numbness, and all I do is hurt. He is the only happiness I have left, and he is trying so hard to get me away from both of you. The pain from the blade, the lightheadedness I get from seasha, the pain from the burning water, the only happiness I get from him. That's all I ever feel.
When I have music playing I close my eyes, and I see myself falling from the sky and that's all I ever see. Just waiting for my own death. Something is wrong with that picture isn't there? I guess I'm just a little too used to it.

I am so sick of both of you.
I want to live with my sister.
I want to live with Bri.
I want to live with him.
Anywhere but here.

Description
You screams are becoming too much, my music isn't loud enough. My books aren't descriptive enough. My drawing isn't a good enough distraction, nor is my painting. But all I need is just a little piano or my clarinet to drown you out. Too bad it would wake the neighbors if I tried to play, too bad it's so late in the night. Too bad the water won't get hot enough to burn me more than I already am, I'm glad you can't see my burns. I'm glad you can't find my blades. I'm so glad that you honestly don't even care anymore. I'm glad you want me out. I want out.
Paint covers my arms and hands. Figments of the led cover my hands under the paint. The paint on my face covers my tears. The water from the shower covers the bigger tears. Burns my cuts. Burns my skin even worse. Good.
A cry for attention? I stopped wanting your attention at the age of 12. Now all I want is to get away from both of you, and your screams. I don't care anymore. I have gotten to the point that nothing can stop the numbness, and all I do is hurt. He is the only happiness I have left, and he is trying so hard to get me away from both of you. The pain from the blade, the lightheadedness I get from seasha, the pain from the burning water, the only happiness I get from him. That's all I ever feel.
When I have music playing I close my eyes, and I see myself falling from the sky and that's all I ever see. Just waiting for my own death. Something is wrong with that picture isn't there? I guess I'm just a little too used to it.

I am so sick of both of you.
I want to live with my sister.
I want to live with Bri.
I want to live with him.
Anywhere but here.