Ten Fourty Four

I sit in the floor,

and I watch myself bleed

I open my mouth,

to let out a scream.

But no one comes running,

cause there's no one around.

And if you've never heard a staggering silence,

it's a terrifying sound.

 

I wrote 37 notes;

Well, they're really more like letters.

And they're living proof,

that it never gets better.

 

It never goes away, no matter what they say

It gets more intense by the minute,

it gets harder every day

 

To put up this front,

to know that I'm not the one you want

To know that life itself is pointless,

to ask myself why I'm still doing this.

 

I never got an answer, and the question still lingers

The tears are still running, as blood drips down my fingers

And I think to myself, this can't be the time of my life

I think to myself, as I sharpen my knife

 

I'd like to go on, as if I never existed

I'd like to find the point to this all, but I guess that I missed it.

I'd like to pretend, that it's all just a phase

But phases don't last for days upon days.

 

I don't mind the looks, and I don't mind the stares

Because for just a second, I can pretend someone cares.

Your mind can be a cold, dark place to live in

and it's only a matter of time before you must finally give in.

 

We're all just alone here.

And I hope you never have to figure that out...