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Description
internal battles on if i should show myself
but i like being a ghost
then i won't hear people say i didn't live up to expectation or see the lies in comments and feel this horrible feeling of letting others down and the need to apologize about it creep up my throat and grab my brain, squeeze it and scream 'what is wrong with you
i just don't want to feel not good enough, with art not being as good as it could be as well so showing myself could flush out the bad people and wipe away the good.
i might be paranoid, it might sound strange but if you could hear the whispers in the hallways and all these half dead remains as i pass by, maybe you'd know this suffering that i quietly posses and how ad it wracks my insides and corrupts my living soul.
it cracks that happiness that churns through my veins, it kills the drug i inject to make myself feel ok and ruthelessly murders the other half, other side, other time place and oh
where do i sign because i need this perscription to make it fade away. like i will some day. i guess i realize now that suffering is what keeps us alive and pain wakes us up unlike the coffee that shoots down my throat.
i just dont want to be turned down because my face isnt me, its just like the clothes i wear and the make up that runs down from tears,it changes and changes and changes so much you dont reconize the sweet little girl i once was
experiences have hardened me and the expectations people place down like a stamp on a letter are kept in place because they need a reason to be bitter have diminished a sense of being unique and special
making me bitter about the world. bitter, bitter bitter but i dont want to be bitter because then i would be them
i try to live up to these pointless words
to feel a part of this dead world and colorless universe so i can feel better and not bitter
i am paranoid
i am suffering
i am a ghost
and thats all i want to be so please let me be
i want to fade away, wait for this wave to flow on by
i starve myself of being free because being free wont let me live, it'll let me float around this world without a care and never let me live until i finally slow down.
go to slow town because my heart beat wont stop racing at these faces that i draw in my mind
the terrible faces i see that are etched in blood and terror so they scar over and never fade
mybe i'll scar over
i dont think i'll face just yet because the lines i see havent left either and i feel like when they do
which is never
the world will end and ill find something better to scar
better to hurt
to feel alive

im a ghost
and ill stay that way
only because my internal struggle, battle, need to stay faded
it hurts more then the comments below could ever inflict
im sorry
sorry
sorry
sorry

i try again tomrrow

Description
internal battles on if i should show myself
but i like being a ghost
then i won't hear people say i didn't live up to expectation or see the lies in comments and feel this horrible feeling of letting others down and the need to apologize about it creep up my throat and grab my brain, squeeze it and scream 'what is wrong with you
i just don't want to feel not good enough, with art not being as good as it could be as well so showing myself could flush out the bad people and wipe away the good.
i might be paranoid, it might sound strange but if you could hear the whispers in the hallways and all these half dead remains as i pass by, maybe you'd know this suffering that i quietly posses and how ad it wracks my insides and corrupts my living soul.
it cracks that happiness that churns through my veins, it kills the drug i inject to make myself feel ok and ruthelessly murders the other half, other side, other time place and oh
where do i sign because i need this perscription to make it fade away. like i will some day. i guess i realize now that suffering is what keeps us alive and pain wakes us up unlike the coffee that shoots down my throat.
i just dont want to be turned down because my face isnt me, its just like the clothes i wear and the make up that runs down from tears,it changes and changes and changes so much you dont reconize the sweet little girl i once was
experiences have hardened me and the expectations people place down like a stamp on a letter are kept in place because they need a reason to be bitter have diminished a sense of being unique and special
making me bitter about the world. bitter, bitter bitter but i dont want to be bitter because then i would be them
i try to live up to these pointless words
to feel a part of this dead world and colorless universe so i can feel better and not bitter
i am paranoid
i am suffering
i am a ghost
and thats all i want to be so please let me be
i want to fade away, wait for this wave to flow on by
i starve myself of being free because being free wont let me live, it'll let me float around this world without a care and never let me live until i finally slow down.
go to slow town because my heart beat wont stop racing at these faces that i draw in my mind
the terrible faces i see that are etched in blood and terror so they scar over and never fade
mybe i'll scar over
i dont think i'll face just yet because the lines i see havent left either and i feel like when they do
which is never
the world will end and ill find something better to scar
better to hurt
to feel alive

im a ghost
and ill stay that way
only because my internal struggle, battle, need to stay faded
it hurts more then the comments below could ever inflict
im sorry
sorry
sorry
sorry

i try again tomrrow