All that pours from my wrists is the ridicule and hatred of the more fortunate
The time spent pouring senseless lines onto paper.
The time
What is left of me. When all I have become is a shadow of my younger self
I don't know which way is up or down
I am my shadow
I am the shadow
I am drowned out
No longer visible from the slums of my bed room
Curled in what is left of sanity I cry.
With these words on paper
"Sorrows" "death" "pain"
I am but a single kiss from satan
- Written by my brother/friend











