Why do I hurt myself so much.

like the red life pumping out of my arms yesterday.

I thought about the songs you played me

I thought we were different

You missed a few lines in my last blogposts, some things i was too scared to say so I wrote them in black on my blog.

I thought I could stop picking the scabs after my friend branded me...

I want the scars.

Why can't I look at you and see a friend anymore.

Why can't I look at you and see a lover anymore.

Why can't I even look at you...

every time I try the water blocks my vision

I thought music would have the answers

Night terrors gave me them instead

I thought the song I wrote might transfer to some other lover...

You thought the church bell sounded holy when I thought it was haunting...

Maybe i am just messed up....

I drew the same picture again, the one of the cemeteries 

the one of the char beast

the one of the house of saint give me

the one of the kiln

Sometimes the scary things in life are the ones that keep you coming back for more.

"Are you a demon?" the skitso asked me

Maybe he was asking me directly....

Maybe he was talking to something behind me...

but he stared right into me and asked it

either way it's true

either I'm the demon...

or something behind me is...

The music was killing me that day by the pond

The music is the only thing keeping me alive now

I forget my dreams every morning because I need to...

I remember my scars because I have to...

I make new ones because I want to...

Every night I fall asleep to wake up and I wake up every day because I didn't die in my sleep like I wish I would have...

Sometimes the scary things in life are the ones that keep you coming back for more.