psychomass

I wonder if its worth to mention I sell myself to get attention I haven\'t even turned eleven and lost my chance to enter Heaven I\'m older now, my angst is growing I\'m almost 12, my blood is flowing I cut a cross of hate and sorrow I hope I won\'t wake up tomorrow This is my only way to cope Cause I\'m a boy that lost all hope If only I wasn\'t so scared of dying I wouldn\'t lay here, ashamed and crying Now eight years later in December the things I did I still remember I hope my life gets better fast Cause I know I\'m stuck back in the past

My pain writhes at my wounds Razors and wrists at midnight. Blood drips like a snare drum. Rat, ptat, ptat. Rat, ptat, ptat. An alabaster statue sits alone. Outside, rain pours like blood. Blood drips like a snare drum. Rat, ptat, ptat. Rat, ptat, ptat. Old obituaries smell of death. Iron tinge mixed with wet concrete. Blood drips like a snare drum. Rat, ptat, ptat. Rat, ptat, ptat. Thunder roars as I fall. Cold face against cold floor. Blood drips like a snare drum. Rat, ptat, ptat. Rat, ptat, ptat. Obsidian slays the alabaster. Eclipse of vision on my death bed. Blood drips like a snare drum. Rat, ptat, ptat. Rat, p