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Another week, creativity is gone,
another hour, all hope is lost.
The finished, are unfinished,

Wishing chores would go away,
Praying,
that things might go and change.

Another minute, eyes glare my way,
another second, and I've left.
The unworked, are overworked.

I'm tired from nothing,
I'm tried of everything.

Puking isn't pleasant but it makes me pretty.
Cutting isn't fun, but it's an easy escape.

Taking credit,
Making creed,
Faking, let it,
Undo deeds.
Because its all the same to me.....
Because its what the world is made of.

I'm made of this,
I'm made of them,

I'm made of dirt, and lies,
I'm made of scaring skies,
I'll never accept our ties,
but I can't help but know it's there.

It exists.....
Its real............... real full of s**t.

I'm just another
drastic, spastic,
superficial, plastic clone.

I'm alone,
lighter tones.

But I chose this.
I made me, this way,
construction, from the finest scum.

Lies.

I'm made of nothing more,
Lies,
Let my head hit the floor,
Lies,
with rags, are over-worn
Lies.
and friendship's I have torn.

its all Copyright.
yet I still copy, right?

Yes.

Unoriginal,
with the help of fake friends,
with the kind touch of a hand.
with the breaking of a band.
I cry, and know I cant.

Living in fear of other's minds,
Wondering what could be hidden inside.
I shouldn't know, and that's why it hides.

I'm revoked.
I'm provoked,
I'm easily choked.
By the lies I hate most.

End. End it.
I beg you, to finish me.
I ask you to just leave.
so I can't lie.
I won't be so torn inside.
I could gouge out my sorry eyes.
and burn all that is mine.