| Nothing |
| What's the point. You feel so much hurt, you wanna disappear. You've run so dry, you can't shed another tear. Dead. Indie or out. What's the difference? I've lost it, lost it so bad. I've gone hay-wire, I can't even feel sad. I am a hole. Empty space. Alife-forfilling journey ending where there's no filling, I give you me, The hole. Quiet. Silence upstairs. I am the definition of psycho just call me the mental bitch Fucking kill me, NOW!! |