Oh the pretty blood, bright red and slowly dripping.

Draining from me my last breath.

My heart shriveled and dry inside my chest,

The beating has stopped and the numbness is present.

And I wonder what’s with me and these suicidal tendencies.

Sometimes I marvel at this lackluster pain.

Why must I bleed within my soul for a future with no hope of coming true?

I must enjoy it because I keep seeking it out.

My face is turning purple, my lips a cold blue.

My face a ghastly white as my eyes bleed red.

The rope around my neck robs me of my life,

But still my body moves in pantomime.

And I wonder what’s with me and these suicidal tendencies.

Sometimes I marvel at this lackluster pain.

Why must I bleed within my soul for a future with no hope of coming true?

I must enjoy it because I keep seeking it out.

I sleep alone and am reminded of the distant ache inside,

I force myself to cry out to try and feel.

When all else fails, reach for the gun.

Anything to stop this numbing sensation!

And I wonder what’s with me and these suicidal tendencies.

Sometimes I marvel at this lackluster pain.

Why must I bleed within my soul for a future with no hope of coming true?

I must enjoy it because I keep seeking it out.

And I can’t understand why the blade in your palm,

Quickens my heart that death is so near.

I fear it not but long for moment.

My imperfect flesh to match my ugly spirit.

And I wonder what’s with me and these suicidal tendencies.

Sometimes I marvel at this lackluster pain.

Why must I bleed within my soul for a future with no hope of coming true?

I must enjoy it because I keep seeking it out.

So beat me till I bleed.

Make my soul take physical form.

Let the planet know how much I hurt!

Take from me everything I have to offer,

Then throw it all away.

What good is damaged product anyway?