AnorexiaA tall, faceless man wearing nothing but black handed me a flower.Although he was a deadly looking man, the flower he held was beautiful.I looked at him then, looked at the flowerhe whispered things into my ear, he said things thatweren't plesant to hear but,he promised me that in the end, I'll be beautifuljust like the flower he heldit was a tough decision but,I think I choose right.I picked eternal beauty and took the flower from his sight.He smiled, he grinnedAnd made his way in, he crept inside my bodyand my soul was his to hold ,I didn't pay attention to the other things he said,the only thing that caught my eye was eternal beautynot death.
LoveOh wow...I thought that...oh.I was wrongagain.I'm always wrongI am always wrong.Why can't things go the way they are supposed to?Why can't the people you love, love you back?Maybe it's because no one ever falls for the right person.Why can't we know who we are destined to be with?It would make everything easier.Stop all the searchingStop all the heart breaking.It shouldn't take this longIt shouldn't be this hard.Just skip to loving that person and no one else.Skip all the steps and just f a l l in love
Lying smileThere's a roomin itthere lies a girl- she's coldCold when it's summer?Oh how she wishes it was winterbut, she looks coldher face pale like snowThere's a roomin itthere lies a girl- she's bleedingBleeding? I think she slippedOh she's always really clumsybut, She looks seriousher eyes not blinkingThere's a roomin itthere lies a girl- she's silentSilent around her friends?Oh she's always been shy around thembut, she looks worriedher lips a shade of plumThere's a roomin itthere lies a girl- she's deadDead and left unsaid?Oh how she wish people caredbut, she seemed so happyHer smile always lyingNo one knew she was dying
SorrowI think I'll drink beerto forget all my sorrowIt's cause you're not hereI might end it tomorrowI told you I'm fineisn't that what you need to knowNo one thought I was lyingI think I'll drink it slowandI love you toobut I need to cryIf I don't recover soonI think I might die
Picture with a twistShe paints a pretty picture,But the story has a twist,Her paint brush is a razorAnd her canvas is her wrist,She paints her pretty pictureIn a color that's blood redWhile using her sharp pain brushShe ends up finally deadHer pretty pictures fadingQuite slowly on her armThe blood is not racing through herShe can no longer do harmShe painted her pretty pictureBut her picture had a twistYou see her mind was her razorAnd her heart was her wrist
BeautyBeauty beneath the skinBeauty hidden withinBeauty is for only some to seeBeauty isn't anywhere near meeasy comeeasy go,Beauty only as you knowBeauty could be looking at her faceorBeauty could be knowing her pain