A flashing fist across a salt watered face,
A broken wrist and a shattered vase,
An unforgiving step father.
When will he learn that I don't like wearing his frustration?

I hide my eye's from crying.
I conceal my cry of pain.
I try and hide the truth, except from you.
But my scars I can't explain.

Of course I did it to myself.
But someone didn't tell the truth.
Was it me? Was it me? Was it me?
Your the sleuth.

---------------------------------------------------------

Maybe when I've cut my arms through,
So I can see out of the other side,
Will I realise that these scars don't fade,
But my memories will.

Take me away.
Take me away.
Never Again.
Don't want to see the end of today.

The day that all my pain,
Drains away with all my sorrow,
Will be the day when I find calamity,
Or maybe a gun.

---------------------------------------------------------

What if I was to say I no longer cared?
Would you retreat?
You said 'fuck you' first.
Sharp words.

Well I can use sharp words too.
So FUCK YOU

I wish that somebody would be there.
Fuck it. Nobody cares.

Back To Miscellaneous Writings

Back to Writings