dyingtolive

I slit my wrists today…I thought that it would make everything okay. It didn't, this doesn't help anymore, and I'm still as empty as before. My words mean nothing; please tell me they don't mean something. I could regret what I said, but it doesn't matter I'll soon be dead. Moving on into the world, the world so cold, as the darkness takes a hold. It takes my soul, was this the ultimate goal? Bring me down, these thoughts that make me frown. Send me up then deny it all, what the fuck? I am dying not on the outside, but on the inside. The fire has left me, I am a shell left to be.