call me a murderer
for i have killed some parts
the parts which i held close
the parts which made me me
i struck myself dagger this deep
these wounds and scars still bleed
i no longer cover them up
i let the blood rummage free
Free to discover new lands of sanity
I no longer clutch myself from me
"This is a shit feeling isn't it?"
this ain't a feeling,a memory anymore
It's something I've created to murder my soul
voices in me no longer control
"Let's write a book together"
lets unfold the scars,look up the sky
take a deep breath, fill up this mess
after all we are on same page,ain't we?
Call me a murderer
But is it possible to get them back?

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