Dying here again.
Every day adds a bit more.
So sick of all of this,
so sick of the sickness being
the only inspiration.
Mind is numb from
the internal screams
and breaking at the seams,
as I'm haunted by the ghosts
of aborted dreams.
Who to blame.
Who to blame today.
Life's gotten so dark I can't see
the shine on the life in the world out there
were I could always damn the reflection of
the enemy as I convienently forget what
that life out there is
really reflecting.
I fucked myself like I always do,
but give me half a chance,
I'll find a way to blame you.
Right now, though,
I'm too riddled by thoughts,
blurred by emotions.
Just as usual, entrapped in
this labryth of confusion, waiting
for the next break to insanity.
Always waiting for the walls to fall down
because I'm too damned weak to push them.
Can't hold up my hands in fear, though,
or have open arms of welcoming.
I've got nothing left, no energy.
Today I've got to tightly squeeze the skin,
still, there's so little left to bleed.
And I remember, I still see.
I see it's me and not the world
but seeing isn't always believing
and belief doesn't always
make a difference.
But I still can look at myself
yes, I still forever damn myself:
Always the better life sacrificed
to addiction to the familiar,
to fear of the unknown.
Hope always left to die in hunger,
my neglegence fed by fear
and a lack of true Will.
I'm still so sick of all of this,
so sick of the sickness being
the only inspiration.
And I find I'm
more and more dry with
every passing day.
The mirror man won't
look at me in the face today.
And what's his name?
I'm such a fuck up, and I
hate to neglect my habits,
but I'm feeling so low today, I can't
lift a finger to point and blame.
I'll just let it fall on me.
Here at the bottom, finally
some sense of responsibility.
Every day adds a bit more.
So sick of all of this,
so sick of the sickness being
the only inspiration.
Mind is numb from
the internal screams
and breaking at the seams,
as I'm haunted by the ghosts
of aborted dreams.
Who to blame.
Who to blame today.
Life's gotten so dark I can't see
the shine on the life in the world out there
were I could always damn the reflection of
the enemy as I convienently forget what
that life out there is
really reflecting.
I fucked myself like I always do,
but give me half a chance,
I'll find a way to blame you.
Right now, though,
I'm too riddled by thoughts,
blurred by emotions.
Just as usual, entrapped in
this labryth of confusion, waiting
for the next break to insanity.
Always waiting for the walls to fall down
because I'm too damned weak to push them.
Can't hold up my hands in fear, though,
or have open arms of welcoming.
I've got nothing left, no energy.
Today I've got to tightly squeeze the skin,
still, there's so little left to bleed.
And I remember, I still see.
I see it's me and not the world
but seeing isn't always believing
and belief doesn't always
make a difference.
But I still can look at myself
yes, I still forever damn myself:
Always the better life sacrificed
to addiction to the familiar,
to fear of the unknown.
Hope always left to die in hunger,
my neglegence fed by fear
and a lack of true Will.
I'm still so sick of all of this,
so sick of the sickness being
the only inspiration.
And I find I'm
more and more dry with
every passing day.
The mirror man won't
look at me in the face today.
And what's his name?
I'm such a fuck up, and I
hate to neglect my habits,
but I'm feeling so low today, I can't
lift a finger to point and blame.
I'll just let it fall on me.
Here at the bottom, finally
some sense of responsibility.
