It changes you.
In ways you won't ever be able to wrap yourself around. The way you think, speak, act, carry yourself.
It starts with the memory lodged in the back of your head, what you can't seem to erase.
I'm sure if you took a look inside my brain you'd see his name carved into my skull.
On some nights I sit outside and smoke, and I love the way the cigarette burns my throat. Even some hot ash falls on my thigh and I don't mind. I don't even brush it off.
Maybe I like the way it hurts.
Because maybe I deserve this.
Maybe I deserved it years ago.
Maybe in a past life I was a terrible person and this is just simply karma.
At the end of everything, I was just a kid.
Just a f***ing kid. Any ounce of innocence was washed and stripped away. I will never be normal.
And it's all his fault.
And its not fair.
It's not fair he can continue to live his life freely,
with no guilt and he's off doing what makes him happy.
But me? I'm rotting in this town still,
with haunting memories.
He's like an annoying scratch
at the roof of my mouth
that - for the love of God,
I can't stop fiddling with.
But its so much more than that.
He's a scar that won't ever heal.
He's a broken bone that never got fixed.
And I wonder if he remembers.
Or is it just a faint fog? For me it's a
constant storm inside stirring
around and around until I feel the need to vomit.
But I guess... at least I don't want
to die anymore. I'd rather just
And at least I don't stay up
until four in the morning either
crying or laying in silence because
I'm so numb. ... And at least it
doesn't hurt as much anymore.
But I still have my bad days...
This s*** f***s you up.
And that's all I have to say.