WereAmI?I can't control the way I changeI can be charmingOr derangedI can make you smileMake you frownMake you stay the whileOr quickly turn aroundBut I can't helpWhich path I chooseIt's like a full moonOnce my hate's let looseI'll chase you downTear you to shredsAnd stay by your sideWhile your body mendsI'll take you for a rideThrough my bipolar fun parkUntil you see insideAnd realize how very darkMy soul can beand you run awayAnd I'm seized by my LycanthropyAnd you become the prey. . .
A Study in Black and WhiteSitting on life's carouselWatching the world around me spinI figured it couldn't hurtTo take a look withinBut what I found inside myselfLeaves me forever scarredI saw what lies within is hellCreated by my mortal heartI saw the demons of hate within my mindI saw the demons of love within my breastI saw the wickedness inside of meTrying to break out through my chestI saw my flaws, I saw my fearsI saw my blood and forgotten tearsI saw me kill all those I lovedI saw my heart pumping their bloodI saw sins near and sinners farI saw that my sanity was marredI saw the wounds inflicted on meAnd turned away in frightTo face a world now emptiedA study in black and white. . .
CutsCut yourselfAnd see if you screamWatch the world turn'Till nothing's as it seemsLook through broken mirrorsAt everything you've beenAnd we're Laughing at youYou think if you hurt yourself we'll cry?Bitch I couldn't care lessGo ahead and die!I don't care 'bout how you say you feelI don't want this world anymoreIf I wanted all your fake shitI'd order me a whoreI don't really knowIf you know this 'bout yourselfBut honey you make me wannaCUT MYSELF
To those who knew himA saloon in the midwest, Carl Oullom sits at the bar on a stool that hurts his ass. It's one of those cheap tin things that seem to push against the bone. It's funny tho, he'd never noticed before how alcohol helps with pain, it took that stupid ass-biting stool to open his eyes on that one. Each shot made the ache in his ass get a little less invasive, when he tried to explain this to the man next to him the man quickly stood up and walked out, Carl thought he heard him murmur "Faggot" before he left. . . He almost laughed at that, he understood how his drunken slurring could be misunderstood, he wasn't a faggot.It wasn't even a pain in his ass he was extremely interested in dulling anyways, it was the pain in his chest and the lead ball in his stomach. The pain in his chest was caused by his wife, it was caused by her finally giving up on him and walking out. . . The lead in his stomach was caused by his reaction. . . He didn't think of himself as a bad man, and by no means was he a
untitled tearsUntitled tearsFalling to your feetThey don't excite my pityThey'll do nothing for meNameless they fallTo early gravesKnowing nothing at allAbout the reason for their livesAbout the secret woundsAnd the obvious ones tooThe cuts beneath your skinAnd the blood pooling in front of youThe bleeding won't stopNeither will the tearsUnless you leave be the woundsYou've been digging at for yearsSelf inflicted gashescriss cross about the wristAll are pain, each one bleedingBlood pooling at your fistYou sit in your chair crying, needingWishing you'd be missedYou don't see all who care for youThat's the extent of your selfishnessYou refuse to see what you would doShould you put life to the testBleeding and cryingAnd blaming it on usYou feel like you're dyingYou've already hurt so muchLook at the pain you've inflicted on othersWith that razor to your wristCan't you see that they love you?Can't you see that you'd be missed?Or do you even careFor those you'd leave he
I Hate YouDid you ever feel like you've been had?Like your life's the punchline of some fucked up gagLike every person who said they care, doesn'tAnd every supporting smile you thought was there, wasn'tLike life's a joke and you're the punYou thought you had friends but you have no one. . .Well that's the truth, I hope that it hurt youSince you didn't seem to realize I figured I'd alert youThat I motherfucking hate youWe all doI'm sorry but it's trueAnd the funniest thing isYou never knew. . .
The only thing you're missingSo you sat in your roomWith a razor to your wristThinking you could lash out at the worldAnd let your scars be your fistLet your blood tear us openAnd your pain destroy our prideAnd if we tried to run from the guiltThere'd be nowhere to hideThat you'd punish all who cared for youWith self righteous suicideTurn up your fucking chinLeave all that mess behindOnce you let depression sink inYou've already lost your mindHow can you cure yourselfWhen you have to look up to findThe cure, your one salvationTo escape this deprivationBurn out all your frustrationAnd start a transformationTo something with inspirationAnd give up the hesitationOn the edge of applicationAnd finally become someoneWorthy of admiration. . .You could be an angelYou could be a fiendYou could be best or worstAnd every station betweenWhen you smile you could be radiantOr just baring your teethAnd though you may become repugnantYou'll always be an angel to meA fallen angle holds as much beau