Do you really like to scream?
And are you always silent?
Does your skin feel cold?
Do you always feel sick?
Have to much energy,
when you want to sleep,
but none to get things done?

Do you like to be challenged?
But would you rather procrastinate?
Like to learn?
Find you don't care?
Get so mad at other stupidity,
But feel to much to correct them?

Do you like to write?
But does it sound horrible?
Do you get so angry,
that you turn into a passion?
Does this leave you feeling like shit?
Do you even have a clue?

Why do you think that you're alive?
Don't you think it's a big mistake?
Do you try to enjoy it anyhow?
How much do you love the thought of chaos?
How often do others ruin it for you?

Do you like you're independence?
Are you pissed when you can't have it?

Can you sing, do you like to?
But do you think you sound bad?
Is you're life expression?
A waste?
Are you too ruined to care?

Do people hate you?
Do you feel their pity?
Have you enough resentment,
to cover them all?

Why are you alive?
Is death not peace?
Do you enjoy your torment,
In your sick, twisted ways?

Do you laugh at people?
Think they're all fools?
Know you're all alone?
Cry over this?
Give no one a chance?

Why do you hate?
Why do you cry?
Do you feel?

Are you me?