I cut my wrists,
because my life is full of pain.
I don’t use spell check,
because I don’t see what I’ll gain.
I whine and angst,
because I can.
I cry in corners,
over a man.
I shun commas,
because I’m sad.
I don’t use periods,
because they’re bad.
The shift key is the devil,
it’s worse than my parents
who won’t buy me the next
My Chemical Romance CD.
I am the vortex of sadness
created by an unfeeling society.
I’m losing myslef,
in my depreshun,
I’m bleeding on the outside,
as my heart and soul do on the inside.
My blood manifests my bleeding,
and I cry tears of sadness.
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