book of shame, page one

seven years ago i tainted the pages of this book with my words
i've never read them aloud, because i don't think they should be heard
my eyes scan the pages and the ramblings and scribbles barely make any sense
but the hatred, anger, and pain i can feel, they come across so real and intense
cloudy brown liquid, i've acquired a love for the taste
but it never quiets the angst from the time i've chosen to waste
it was the first year of the millennium, but not a new beginning for me
fear kept me from seeing that this is not where i was meant to be
it was the year that damaged my heart and scored my skin
and allowed the pollution access to my body and let the pain seep in
i had a paraplegic spirit, for my soul had been maimed
i didn't want to remember, those are years for which i'm inexplicably ashamed
but like an obedient slave, i would wait in line for a lashin'
it took me until now, to realize that hate followed by sex doesn't constitute passion
i lived my life in limbo, while i watched years race by
i can't seem to forget about shattered moments no matter what i try
so read the words that litter these pages, and i won't apologize for what you'll find
because i can't help it, these are the type of thoughts that are on my mind
there are years of my life left that i know i could save
as i wonder if i could've handled another year living as a slave
i've wasted so many years, while another summer blends into another fall
these memories are like chiggers and make my skin crawl
my mind drifts off, and my thoughts wander west
even a though a calming comes over me, my mind can't rest
it's been so long since i've cared what was wrong or right
so i battle with myself, and self preservation has become my fight
i was never worth the truth, so to myself i was always lying
i didn't spend my time living, because i was too busy dying
i think about it often, and one day i know i might
so i keep an open pocket knife close every time i write
i used to think thoughts like this were weak, but i guess there were aspects of life i didn't understand
like things get out of control, so the symbol of anarchy is carved into the palm of my hand
i pray for salvation, because i often don't understand what i see
like once, i had a dream where the dead were standing over me
there was no escape, because my sorrow and pain had learned to swim
i think about the longevity of life, and i realize the chances for me are slim
so when i say that life is complicated and you don't know what i mean
i'll bleed myself all over the tub, so there's not a mess for you to clean