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i feel it all the time, my pain
but this time it just doesnt feel the same
every comment, every look, makes me break into tears
every memory i wish i didnt have increases my fear

that i'll become one of them, with the cuts on their skin
i can feel myself coming apart, piece by piece
bad against good, i hope the bad wont win
there are times when all good feelings inside cease.

im writing my suicide note in my head
blaming everyone i know on why im dead
i dont want to be this person, wishing she'd go
but she'll just dissapear for awhile, lying low

i keep it all in, my hurts and my wantings
and a person to confide in is for what i am longing
but no one's out there who'll listen and not judge
until then, from this place i cant budge.

so put me under your eye
for what will i be classified?
suicidal, lonely, misunderstood?
dont be fooled
im much more

my mother comes in, asking why i'm crying
how i wish i could tell her the truth
but i don't know what to do or why i bother trying
everything i say shows me exactly what i am

im twisted