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If it is pain of what you can’t take, then perhaps thoughts of death come to awake. I seem to be trapped in this world of were I am alive, I need an exit, that is what I strive. Is nothing not pain that I endure, I see a dead body rotting on the kitchen floor. I look down upon it with a twisted grin, and wish that could have been me instead of him.
Blood dripping down his discussing face, this world I live in I truly HATE this place. So I take that bloody knife and thrust it out his skull, by the look of this thing its not to dull. But I have no worry, no fears, as I thrust the blade into me, you will se my face full of tears.