
With these cuts that heal,
The choices I make,
The ones that teach me to break,
The tears I cry,
The ones asking why,
Why do I tell the lies I tell,
I always prayed for happiness,
But I know I’ll meet the devil in hell,For I was born in sadness.
What I think, say and do is what I am, what I am doesn't matter to anyone else, anyone else wouldn't care about someone like me, someone like me doesn't care what people think, what people think is killing me, killing me is slow.
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