Each scar is because of you.
You're the one to make my blood bloom.
The empty pain I feel inside,
foreshadows my deep demise.
I'm sick of crying,
I'm sorry for trying.
I should have ended when I was born,
then maybe no heart would be torn.
I wish my breath did not start,
and maybe even my heart.
Growing up is the hard part,
I really didn't want to start.
I wish it was easy to say goodbye,
so then maybe I could die.