Once a girl lived Tucked in a house of glass Kept for so long Walking over the shards of broken Things once whole It hurts But she's stuck Little does she know The key is herself The broken house her mind But its impossible Or so it seems To escape the house of glass without Bleeding out
No matter how successful you become, or how far you climb, you are still just a human. You bleed the same, and you fall just the same. Only, the impact is going to be so much greater and the blood can be sold on eBay depending on how famous you are
If I’m willing What’s so wrong? If I want to watch myself bleed Why shouldn’t I? If it offers relief If it’s satisfying If it eases the never-ending agony Of breathing Why shouldn’t I slit my wrists?
Maybe someone at suicide prevention will explain it to me
you, special one, so enthralling indeed casting fits of need with viridescent pits of greed take me between your fists in the lifeless heat of night break a willful bird from the fantasy of flight what kind of crippling love do we breed when all is good only when I bleed? I bleed.
