Author Information
The Lies
good or bad, happy or sad
its up to you to make your fate
you set your path by the scars that you create
they are the perfect path for which to walk
any one who gets too close will be shocked
they'll see the scars upon my skin
and wonder what horrors lie within
that i should feel the need
the need to sow the perfect seed
of pain and sorrow all self done
they will draw back and turn to run
and when i grab their arms they scream
and tell me just what it means
to be hated for what is past
and then nothing will last
i will hate myself and pull away
ill hurt myself another day
because all the pain i thought
had gone away was still right there
the scars a reminder of every tear
that rent my skin and bled away
the pain that i felt that day
but now they're just horrid remains
of days gone by in crimson rains
the days of comfort are so long gone
they are no longer tightly drawn
but loosely knit and forgotten
the days of old have all gone rotten
they rotted out and turned to mold
just like my heart they all grew cold
the only way to make it all better
if i could only write the letter
to show you what went wrong
to show you im not too strong
to throw it all down and die
in my life all there is is the constant lie
of love or anything but empty moods
and in the letter my life concludes
the letter would say "im sorry for trying
im just so tired of all the lying
of saying 'i love you too'
i just wish you knew
that i could never love
never beleive in the great above
never feel at home with you
never do what i promised to
im just a shallow hollow prick
you shouldnt worry for me, my death was quick"
and in the note you will know
that the life i led was all for show
you shall find i died and left even in death
a final lie muttered with my last breath
and my last spoken words shall be
'no one cares about poor little me'
but its the lie i lived, the lie i loved
the lie i embraced and the lie beloved
i cast aside my misery and told you all was fine
in my mind i told the truth but on my body i drew the line
so fuck the lie that you believed
and fuck my feelings of being decieved
by myself i deserve this fate
and for my final appointment i do await
and hope that it grows ever near
maybe its tomorrow, the day i end my sorrow
maybe not, or maybe so
either way one day ill go
and never come back
my pale face will then go slack
my slender arms will grow so weak
my wrists may be wet and sleek
with blood from a heart that died so long ago
